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^AN  DIEGO 


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BY  JENNETTE  LEE 

THE  CHINESE  COAT 

THE  RATN-COAT  GIRL 

THE  GREEN  JACKET 

THE  AIRMAN  AND  THE  TRAMP 

tTNFINISHED  PORTRAITS 

THE  SYMPHONY  PLAY 

AUNT  JANE 

THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  ALCOVE 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


THE 
CHINESE  COAT 


BY 

JENNETTE    LEE 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1920 


COPYMGHT,   1920,  BY 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published     August,     1920 


TO 

GERALD    STANLEY    LEE 

"  I  take  my  way  along  the  island's  edge  " 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 
I 

Eleanor  more  walked  away  from 
the  coat.  She  looked  back  at  it  across 
the  glass  case  of  fichus  and  ribbon  bows, 
and  went  on  down  the  aisle  of  show-cases 
to  the  coats  and  suits  at  the  end.  Stew- 
art's was  having  a  sale  of  coats  and  suits, 
and  Eleanor  More  was  there — not  be- 
cause she  could  afford  to  buy  anything, 
even  at  a  sale,  but  because  she  was  a 
woman. 

She  had  been  passing  the  store  and 
seen  the  crowd  pressing  in  through  the 
wide  doors  .  .  .  She  had  hesitated  a  min- 
ute and  gone  in. 

It  was  nearly  six  o'clock  now,  and  the 
crowd  had  thinned.  Here  and  there  a 
wandering  figure  could  be  seen,  half  ready 

[3  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


for  flight,  pausing  to  peck  at  some  bar- 
gain crumb;  and  helpers  with  long  gray 
covers  were  appearing  and  shrouding  the 
glass  cases  and  counters  for  the  night. 
The  light  in  the  shop  began  to  seem  gray 
and  a  little  ghostly;  out  of  it  the  gold  and 
blue  colors  of  the  Chinese  coat  gleamed 
freshly,  like  a  bit  of  Oriental  flame  caught 
in  this  dull  sale  of  Western  goods  and  held 
fast. 

Eleanor  More  glanced  at  the  coat 
again — down  through  the  gray-shrouded 
counters.  Then  she  turned  swiftly  and 
went  back.  It  stood  by  itself  on  its  dummy 
figure  at  the  end  of  the  glass  cases;  in 
the  fading  light  from  a  window  above, 
the  fantastic  gold  shadows  of  the  dragons 
chased  each  other  and  played  hazily 
across  it. 

She  halted  before  it,  and  half  reached 
out  her  hand  to  it. 

[4] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


A  woman  with  a  large  bust  and  paper 
cuffs  on  her  sleeves  came  drifting  toward 
her.  "Anything  I  can  show  you,  mad- 
am?" 

Eleanor  More  looked  up.  "I  was  look- 
ing at  this  coat.''  Her  hand  moved 
vaguely  to  the  dragons. 

The  woman's  eyes  followed  the  gesture. 
"It's  a  great  bargain!"  She  put  out  her 
hand  to  it. 

"Would  you  like  to  slip  it  on .?" 

Eleanor  More  drew  back.  "Oh — I 
wasn't  thinking  of  buying.  I  was  look- 
ing. I  just  happened — to  see  it " 

The  woman's  hands  were  busy  with 
the  neck  of  the  coat.  She  slipped  it 
deftly  from  the  lay  figure  and  held  it  up. 
"No  harm  in  trying,"  she  said. 

Eleanor  More  looked  at  it  and  drew 
away — and  came  back.  She  held  out  her 
hands  with  a  little  laughing  gesture. 

[5] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"No — I  cannot  afford — "  She  put  her 
hands  into  the  blue  sleeves  with  the 
quaint  trailing  ends  and  drew  it  up 
about  her. 

The  woman  gave  a  little  pat  to  the 
shoulders  and  smiled,  pointing  to  a  long 
mirror  at  the  right. 

Eleanor  More  moved  to  the  mirror; 
she  stood  looking  at  herself. 

Behind  her  stretched  the  gray  count- 
ers— shrouded  in  for  the  night's  rest. 
Only  a  figure  here  and  there  was  visible 
in  the  distance.  Her  eyes  caught  the 
empty  spaces  behind  her. 

"It  is  late!"  she  said  hastily.  "I  am 
keeping  you!"  She  looked  over  her 
shoulder  at  the  woman  who  seemed,  in 
the  gray  light,  receding  dimly. 

But  she  came  forward  with  a   smile. 
"There  is  no  hurry."  She  touched   the 
coat  and  adjusted  it. 
[6] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"  It  suits  you  perfectly !  '* 

Eleanor  More  glanced  again  into  the 
long  mirror.  The  blue  and  gold  covered 
her  from  head  to  foot;  and  above  it,  her 
face  looked  out  at  her,  a  little  mistily, 
and  smiled  to  her. 

She  shook  her  head  and  the  mirrored 
lady  shook  her  head — slowly.  Then  they 
both  smiled  radiantly  and  the  gold  drag- 
ons crumpled  their  tails  as  the  coat  was 
flung  swiftly  back. 

**  I  don't  know  why  I  put  it  on !  I 
think  it  bewitched  me !  Here — take  it ! 
Thank  you  very  much."  She  spoke — half 
under  her  breath,  and  the  woman  took 
the  coat  in  her  hands.  She  stood  smooth- 
ing the  folds. 

"It  is  a  great  bargain — marked  down 
for  to-day.'*  She  touched  the  tag  with 
casual  finger,  and  Eleanor's  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  motion. 

[7] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"I  know —  It's  absurdly  cheap — and 
very  beautiful !  But  I  simply  cannot  af- 
ford it !  Thank  you  for  showing  it  to 
me — so  late  !''  She  moved,  a  little  blindly, 
toward  the  stairs.  The  elevator  had 
ceased  to  run. 

When  she  was  gone  the  woman  stood 
with  the  coat  in  her  hand  irresolute. 
A  helper  coming  by  with  an  armful  of 
gray  covers  cast  a  flitting  glance  at  it. 

"Want  a  top.?" 

But  she  shook  her  head.  "I  will  put  it 
in  the  box  for  to-night." 

The  helper  went  on  down  the  aisle. 
The  woman  drew  a  box  from  beneath 
the  counter  and  folded  the  dragons  with 
careful  hand,  and  smoothed  their  tails 
and  placed  the  coat  in  its  box.  Through 
a  bit  of  tissue-paper  across  the  top  of 
the  blue  and  gold  it  gleamed  and  shim- 
mered softly,  and  the  woman  brushed 
[8] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


light  finger-tips  across  it  as  she  pressed 
the  paper  down  and  tucked  it  in  and  set 
the  box  aside. 

Then  she  went  down  the  room,  and 
disappeared  among  the  shadows  of  count- 
ers and  cases,  and  the  shop  was  left  alone. 
Darkness  slipped  in  from  outside,  and 
pushed  the  grayness  before  it.  It  clothed 
the  dummy  figure  in  black,  and  descended 
on  the  box  of  dragons,  blotting  it  out. 
It  covered  the  whole  room. 

In  the  darkness  beneath  the  counter 
lay  the  Chinese  coat,  with  its  bit  of  tis- 
sue-paper lying  across  the  glory  of  blue 
and  gold,  safely  tucked  away. 

Only  the  vast  oblongs  of  windows  re- 
mained to  show  faintly,  against  the  street 
outside,  where  the  light  came  in. 


[9] 


Ti 


n 


HAT  night  she  dreamed  of  the  coat. 
She  saw  its  soft  folds  descending  on  her 
out  of  the  sky,  and  she  held  up  her  hands 
to  it  and  caught  it  to  her  and  wrapped 
it  about  her  and  ran  in  the  wind,  singing. 
And  all  the  dragons  came  alive  and 
pranced  beside  her — and  she  threw  off 
the  coat  and  ran  with  the  dragons,  un- 
clothed. And  the  freedom  of  it  was  like 
life — ^flooding  down  on  her  out  of  the 
sky;  and  then  the  dragons  moved  from 
her — they  were  receding  into  the  dis- 
tance, their  great  heads  held  high;  and 
she  ran,  stumbling,  after  them,  alone 
and  naked — and  suddenly  she  was  in  a 
crowded  street  and  the  people  were  look- 
ing at  her,  and  shame  drew  about  her  as 
a  vast  garment;  she  shrank  back  into  it, 
trying  to  hide — but  there  was  no  cover 
[  lo] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


for  her — and  she  woke  with  a  dry,  chok- 
ing sob. 

She  got  carefully  out  of  bed  and  tip- 
toed from  the  room,  closing  the  door 
behind  her.  In  the  next  room,  she  could 
see  the  daylight  straggling  through  the 
curtains.  She  threw  up  the  shades  and 
watched  it  come.  A  flush  of  light  was 
in  the  sky  over  the  mean  little  houses 
at  the  rear;  even  the  houses  themselves, 
not  yet  touched  by  the  light,  had  a  fresh, 
waiting  look;  and  in  the  chicken-yards 
the  hens  ran  about  busily,  pecking  at 
something,  or  nothing.  In  one  of  the 
vacant  lots  a  man  was  hoeing.  His  bent 
back  had  a  look  of  strength.  As  she 
watched  him,  he  stopped  his  work  a 
moment  and  looked  up  at  the  sky.  Then 
he  went  on  hoeing,  with  slow  strokes. 

The  rooms  were  filled  with  light  when 
she  came  from  her  bath;  and  she  threw 

[  II  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


open  the  windows,  and  went  about  get- 
ting breakfast  with  quick  steps. 

She  put  the  plates  on  the  table  and 
paused  and  went  to  the  door  and  opened 
it.  The  little  porch  outside,  half-shaded 
with  vines,  was  streaked  with  sunshine 
along  the  floor.  She  stepped  out  on  to  it, 
holding  out  her  hand,  as  if  to  test  the 
warmth. 

She  drew  a  table  from  the  wall  and 
brought  a  cloth  for  it  and  laid  the  table 
for  breakfast  on  the  porch. 

Presently  she  looked  up.  A  man  in 
the  doorway  was  surveying  her  with  a 
smile. 

She  came  across  to  him  and  lifted  her 
face. 

He  bent  to  kiss  it.  "Up  early,  weren't 
you!'' 

"I  couldn't  sleep —  Do  you  like  it — 
out  here  ?"  She  waved  her  hand. 

[    12] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Fine!"  He  surveyed  the  table. 
"Couldn't  be  beat !  Shall  I  bring  things 
out?" 

"I  was  afraid  you  might  not  like  it." 
She  poured  his  coffee.  "Father  never 
liked  it — eating  out-of-doors — at  home." 

"  This  is  home,"  said  the  man.  He  was 
sipping  his  coffee  and  looking  contentedly 
at  the  vine-shadows  on  the  floor. 

"My  other  home,  I  mean." 

"You  never  had  any  other  home." 

"Well— what  I  called  home — till  I 
knew  better!"  She  laughed  the  words  at 
him,  and  he  nodded  gravely. 

"Father  used  to  wear  his  hat — some 
days  his  muffler — if  we  tried  to  eat  out- 
of-doors.  So  we  gave  it  up.  I  am  glad  you 
like  it!" 

She  fell  silent,  watching  the  shadows; 
and  he  watched  her  face.  She  was  quiet  a 
long  time. 

[13 1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


The  man  finished  his  breakfast — he 
looked  at  her. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of  ?"  he  asked. 

She  started.  "Oh — I —  Nothing  very- 
much."  She  flashed  a  Httle  look  at  him 
and  got  up  from  the  table. 

"Better  tell  me,"  he  suggested, 

"It  wasn't  anything — not  anything 
that  will  ever  be — anything."  She  began 
to  gather  up  dishes. 

"Made  you  look  pretty  happy,"  he 
said. 

"Did  it.?"  she  laughed  out.  She  stood 
a  moment,  looking  thoughtfully  at  the 
vine-shadows  on  the  cloth.  .  ,  .  "It  was 
a  coat  I  saw  at  Stewart's,  yesterday — a 
perfectly  absurd  coat — for  me  !" 

"No  coat  could  be  absurd  for  you — • 
not  if  you  wanted  it !" 

"Yes — I  wanted  it — I  suppose."  She 
looked   again   at   the   white   cloth   and 

[  14] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


waited.  "I  think  it  bewitched  me.  .  .  . 
It  was  a  Chinese  coat,  you  see !" 

He  looked  at  her  blankly.  "A  Chinese 
coat — for  you!'' 

She  nodded.  "I  told  you  it  was  ab- 
surd!" 

"Well—'*  He  regarded  it  thought- 
fully. "If  you  want  it  .  .  .  But  what 
could  you  do  with — a  Qiinese  coat  ?" 

"That's  what  I  don't  know."  She  was 
very  meek.  "I  just  seemed  to  think — I 
wanted  it." 

"You  couldn't  wear  it  to  church .?" 

"No-o — "  She  hesitated.  "I  could  wear 
it  to  the  opera — if  we  should  go." 

He  laughed  out.  "And  to  the  circus !" 
He  came  around  and  touched  her  hair 
where  the  light  fell  on  it.  "How  much  did 
it  cost — this  Chinese  thingumabob.?" 

"  Fifty  dollars — "  It  came  out  slowly — 
and  he  whistled  softly  between  his  teeth. 
[  IS] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"For  the  opera  !"  he  said. 

She  threw  out  her  hands.  "Of  course 
I  didn't  mean  it !  But  you  asked  me — 
what  I  was  thinking  about *' 

"Of  course  I  did!"  He  was  prompt. 
"And  I'll  see  what  we  have — to  spare." 

He  moved  toward  the  door.  "  Sure  you 
couldn't  use  it  for  anything  else" — he 
looked  back  over  his  shoulder — "except 
the  opera  ?" 

"Well — I  could  make  a  kimono  of  it." 
She  glanced  at  him  half-pleadingly — 
then  she  laughed  out.  "I  don't  want  the 
old  thing  1 1  don't  know  why  I  told  you  1" 


[16] 


Ill 

IF  she  thought  of  the  coat  through  the 
day,  there  was  no  sign  of  it  in  her  face. 
She  went  about  her  work  with  busy,  pre- 
occupied look.  She  did  the  dishes,  and 
dusted  and  made  beds  and  went  to 
market;  and  after  luncheon,  which  she 
had  by  herself  on  the  porch,  she  lay 
down,  a  little  while,  watching  the  streaks 
of  light  that  came  through  the  blind- 
slats  and  fell  across  the  matting,  and 
almost  reached  to  the  bed  .  .  .  and 
when  she  saw  them  again,  they  were 
lying  along  the  pillow  close  to  her — and 
it  was  five  o'clock. 

She  sprang  up  with  a  little  exclama- 
tion and  hurried  to  the  kitchen. 

But,  after  all,  Richard  was  late,  and 
everything  was  ready  when  he  came. 

He  cast  a  happy  look  about  the  room. 

[  17] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Nice  home  !''  he  said. 

She  smiled  and  set  the  dinner  on  the 
table. 

"You  were  late." 

"Well,  rather !  It's  been  a  great  day — " 
He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully  across  the 
table,  and  took  up  the  carving-knife 
and  tested  it  gently  on  his  thumb. 
"Martin  came  in — about  the  lot,  next 
door!" 

She  glanced  quickly  at  him.  "What 
did  he  say?" 

"Said  he's  ready — to  sell." 

They  were  both  silent. 

Presently  she  gave  a  Httle  sigh.  "Well, 
of  course  we  canH —  But  it's  too  bad  !" 

He  looked  at  her,  smiling.  "That's  the 
queer  thing !  It's  just  possible " 

"What  do  you  mean.?" 

"Well — I'd  been  looking  things  over — 

about  your  Chinese  coat,  you  know " 

[i8] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Oh-h!"  Her  glance  held  his. 

He  nodded.  "Td  made  up  my  mind 
to  get  it  for  you — if  it  took  our  last 
cent " 

"But  I  told  you " 

He  held  up  a  hand.  "And  Fd  just 
figured  out  how  I  could  do  it — ^when 
Martin  came  in  and  offered  the  lot  for 
three  hundred — fifty  dollars  down." 

Her  eyes  were  on  his  face. 

"Of  course,  yesterday,  or  day  before, 
I  should  have  said — ^we  couldn't  do  it. 
.  .  .  But  there  was  the  money — in  my 
hand,  practically." 

"Did  you  give  it  to  him?"  She  leaned 
forward,  a  little  breathless. 

He  looked  at  her.  "Do  you  think  I 
did?" 

"Why— I— don't  know." 

He  got  up  and  came  over  to  her  and 
bent  down.  "It  is  your  Chinese  coat!" 

[  19] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


he  said.  "You  didn't  suppose  I  was  go- 
ing to  mortgage  your  possessions — with- 
out letting  you  know  !'* 

"You  mean  I  can  have  it — the  coat  I" 
She  had  clasped  her  hands — she  was  gaz- 
ing at  something  far  beyond  him — far 
beyond  the  room,  it  seemed. 

He  watched  her  face  a  minute.  "You 
sure  can  have  your  coat — if  you  want 
it  I"  he  said  softly. 

She  drew  a  long  breath  and  the  light 
ran  back  into  her  face,  flooding  it. 

"Oh — I"  She  threw  out  her  hands. 
"  I  don't  want  it ! — I  just  wanted  to  be 
sure  I  could  want  it — if  I  wanted  to  V* 

"  I  know."  He  looked  down  at  her  with 
quiet  understanding. 

"So  it  is  the  lot  ?"  he  said. 

"Of  course  it  is  the  lot !  Go  and  eat 
your  dinner,  silly  boy!" 


[20] 


Ti 


IV 


HEY  were  not  likely  to  forget  the 
night  they  decided  to  buy  the  lot  next 
door.  It  seemed  the  beginning  of  married 
life  together.  To  be  sure,  they  had  been 
married  nearly  a  year  and  they  had 
bought  and  furnished  the  house;  they 
had  even  bought  a  strip  of  land  on  the 
other  side  of  the  house  that  had  come 
into  the  market  soon  after  they  were 
married — while  they  still  had  a  little 
money  to  spare. 

But  in  all  their  purchases  before,  there 
had  been  an  element  that  marked  them 
off  by  themselves.  This  new  purchase 
was  something  different — something  en- 
tered into  from  choice,  and  with  a  free 
heart. 

They  called  it  the  Chinese  lot. 

It  was  Eleanor  who  named  it  and  told 

[21    ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Richard  laughingly.  But  even  to  herself 
it  was  not  a  common,  every-day  name. 
It  seemed  a  kind  of  dream-place,  in  a 
faint,  happy  light,  with  Chinese  dragons 
chasing  across  it. 

Within  twenty-four  hours  after  their 
decision,  the  deed  for  the  lot  was  in 
Richard's  pocket;  and  twenty-four  hours 
later  the  fence  between  was  torn  down, 
and  builders  were  at  work  on  a  wall 
that  took  in  the  new  lot  and  made  the 
whole  place  one. 

Eleanor  More  watched  the  men  with 
shining  eyes.  When  her  work  was  done 
she  took  her  sewing-basket  and  went 
into  the  sunshine  across  the  yard,  and 
stepped  over  the  boundary  into  the  new 
lot.  Just  beyond  the  boundary  was  a 
great  oak-tree,  with  wide  branches  and 
great  roots  bulging  out  of  the  ground. 
As   she   sat   down   under  the   tree,   she 

[22] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


noted  the  roots;  the  happy  thought 
crossed  her  mind  of  children  playing 
there — each  great  root  a  playhouse — 
with  little  dishes  and  mud  pies.  .  .  . 
Her  eyes  followed  the  dream,  as  she  un- 
folded her  work  and  sat  sewing,  with  the 
light  flecking  down  on  her  and  on  the 
root  playhouses  and  green  grass. 

Richard  More  found  her  there  when 
he  came  home  from  work.  He  went 
across  to  see  how  much  had  been  finished 
on  the  wall.  Then  he  came  back  and  stood 
and  watched  her  swift  needle  and  the 
light  on  her  hair. 

She  looked  up. 

"Nice  place!"  he  said  approvingly. 

"Yes — I  like  the  roots!"  She  patted 
one  of  them  beside  her. 

He  looked  at  it  vaguely. 

"Fine!"  he  said. 

She  smiled,  but  she  did  not  explain. 

[23  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Why  didn't  you  ever  sit  here  be- 
fore?" he  demanded,  looking  about  him. 

The  needle  paused.  "Why — .?  .  .  . 
We  never  owned  it  before !" 

"You  didn't  have  to  own  it — to  sit 
on  it." 

"Oh,  yes  I  did !  Owning  it  is  half  the 
sitting  on  it !" 

He  threw  himself  on  the  ground  be- 
side her  and  looked  up  into  the  oak- 
tree,  throwing  back  his  head. 

Her  puzzled  eyes  regarded  him. 

"I  should  never  think  of  coming  out 
here  to  sit — if  we  didn't  own  it — you 
know  that." 

"Hah  I  Just  like  a  woman !" 

She  pricked  the  needle  through  the 
muslin  in  her  hand. 

"There  was  the  fence,"  she  said. 

"Climb  over!"  He  had  taken  a  pipe 
from  his  pocket. 

[24 1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  reached  out  her  hand.  "Not  be- 
fore dinner!"  decisively.  "You'll  spoil 
your  appetite !"  She  captured  the  pipe. 

"Oh,  very  well!"  He  leaned  against 
the  tree  and  watched  her. 

She  was  folding  her  sewing  neatly. 
"I  should  never  have  climbed  over!" 
She  pinned  the  work  together  in  a  com- 
pact roll  and  nodded  to  him. 

"You  could  have  gone  round — "  he 
said  with  a  teasing  note. 

"You  know  what  I  mean,  Dick!  I 
shouldn't  have  wanted  to  sit  under  a 
tree  that  did  not  belong  to  us — and  that 
belonged  to  the  Martins  or  to  the  Suttons, 
or  to  anybody — and  not  in  our  own 
yard — nobody  would  !" 

"Funny  idea!"  said  Dick  slowly. 
"Same  tree,  same  place,  just  Ours!" 

She  smiled  at  him.  "Help  me  up !  It's 
time  for  dinner." 

[25] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  strolled  across  the  grass  beside  her 
to  the  house,  and  helped  set  the  table 
while  she  was  in  the  kitchen. 

He  did  not  smoke  his  pipe.  She  had 
laid  it  on  a  high  shelf  over  the  mantel  as 
she  came  in.  She  had  to  climb  on  a  chair 
to  reach  the  mantel.  Dick  could  have 
reached  it  with  one  lift  of  his  hand.  But 
he  only  eyed  it,  half-humorously,  as  he 
set  out  doilies  and  finger-bowls  and 
counted  spoons,  and  called  out  to  the 
kitchen  to  know  how  many  forks  were 
needed. 

Not  for  worlds  would  he  have  taken 
down  the  pipe — not  for  a  single  whiff. 
He  had  a  kind  of  savage  pleasure  in  it — 
watching  it  up  there — ^with  its  old  fa- 
miliar brown  bowl  turned  to  the  wall.  .  .  . 
Time  had  been  when  that  pipe  was  his 
only  friend.  ...  He  did  not  own  a 
house  and  lot  then — and  an  oak-tree.  .  .  . 

[26] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  peeped  out  of  the  window  at  the  tree, 
serene  in  the  evening  Hght.  .  .  .  Sud- 
denly he  saw  a  Chinese  Coat — blue 
and  gold,  she  had  said  it  was;  and  the 
happiness  in  his  face  deepened.  He  whis- 
tled softly  between  his  teeth  as  he  ar- 
ranged forks  and  spoons.  .  .  .  ''Our 
forks  and  spoons  ! "  he  said — and  laughed 
out. 

She  came  to  the  door.  "What  are  you 
talking  about .'"' 

"Nothing — my  dear — nothing!"  and 
she  returned  to  the  kitchen. 

Richard  More  had  not  married  until 
he  was  thirty-five.  Eleanor  was  twenty- 
six.  It  had  not  been  easy  to  win  her. 
She  had  her  tutoring  to  do.  .  .  .  He 
took  her  away  from  her  home  town — 
into  his  kitchen.  But  he  knew  she  was 
happy — far  happier  than  she  had  been 
in  her  little  world  that  looked  up  to 

[27] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


her.  ...  As  for  himself,  he  felt  as  if 
he  moved  in  a  new  world — a  great  world 
that  stretched  through  leagues — to  the 
moon — or  the  sun.  .  .  .  The  pipe-dreams 
of  old  days  seemed  like  hen-coop  dreams 
in  the  spaces  in  Eleanor's  mind.  Each  day 
he  began  exploration  anew;  and  each 
day,  in  the  little  circle  of  her  being,  he 
seemed  to  sweep  out  into  the  world — 
great  cosmic  paths,  and  tracks  of  stars 
and  shining  spaces.  .  .  . 

She  came  from  the  kitchen,  smoothing 
down  the  sleeves  of  her  gown  and  cast- 
ing a  last  look  at  the  table. 

"Too  many  forks!"  she  said. 

She  removed  one  from  each  plate,  and 
put  it  back  in  its  place — neatly  in  its 
compartment  in  the  drawer  of  the  shin- 
ing sideboard. 


[28] 


V 

l\  MONTH  later  he  hurried  home  one 
day  from  work.  It  was  Saturday  noon, 
and  a  half-holiday  for  him. 

She  was  finishing  her  luncheon.  The 
light  in  the  half-darkened  dining-room 
seemed  to  him  mysterious  and  cool  as  he 
came  in  from  the  street  outside. 

She  looked  up  in  surprise.  "You  are 
home  early!" 

He  glanced  at  her  plate.  "Through 
luncheon  ?" 

"Almost —  Do  you  want  something?" 

"No.  I've  had  mine —  Let*s  go  off 
somewhere !" 

In  ten  minutes  she  was  ready  and  they 
left  the  house.  He  tucked  the  key  in  his 
vest  pocket  and  they  hurried  across  the 
lawn  to  catch  an  outgoing  car. 

As  he  passed  the  oak-tree  he  glanced 

[29] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


at  it  with  a  knowing  smile.  He  might 
almost  have  been  said  to  wag  his  head 
at  it.  And  he  patted  the  pocket  where 
the  key  lay.  .  .  .  Close  beside  the  key 
were  five  round  golden  disks — Httle  yel- 
low disks  that  might  at  any  minute 
turn  into  great  gold  dragons. 

They  left  the  car  at  a  fork  In  the  road 
and  were  In  the  open  country;  they 
climbed  a  high  hill,  and  a  hill  behind  the 
high  hill,  and  came  out  at  last  upon  a 
bluff  overlooking  miles  of  country. 

She  took  off  her  hat  and  sat  down 
with  a  happy  sigh,  lifting  her  face  to  the 
breeze  that  came  across  the  hill. 

"Isn't  it  good!" 

He  nodded,  without  speaking.  His 
eyes  were  on  the  mountains  In  the  dis- 
tance. His  heart  was  talking  to  five  gold 
coins  that  lay  just  over  It  and  caused  it 
to  beat  In  a  jolly  happy  rhythm. 

[30] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  put  out  a  hand  and  touched  hers. 

"Something  nice  has  happened  to- 
day!" he  said. 

She  turned  her  eyes  to  him. 

"I  thiak  this  is  pretty  nice!"  Her 
hand  swept  all  the  reach  of  space  about 
them. 

"Guess,"  he  said  teasingly. 

"  Something  we  want  ? " 

"Of  course.  More  than  anything  in 
the  world,"  he  said  after  a  minute. 

She  turned  her  eyes  on  him  gravely. 
She  looked  at  him  a  full  minute.  "How 
do  you  know  that  ?"  she  said  softly. 

"I  know."  He  moved  nearer  to  her, 
and  they  watched  the  light  change  and 
sweep  in  great  shadows  across  the  fields 
below.  "You  want  it — more  than  any- 
thing in  the  world,"  he  said,  speaking 
slowly.  "I  knew  you  did — ^when  I  took 
it  for  the  lot." 

[31] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  patted  the  hand  that  lay  beside 
her  own. 

**  I  did  not  want  it — not  so  very  much," 
she  said.  "Anyway,  I  wanted  the  lot 
more.  .  .  .  And,  besides,  I've  been  so 
busy  getting  ready  for  Annabel " 

"Getting  ready  for  William  Archer,'* 
he  corrected  gravely. 

"Getting  ready  for  Annabel — "  she 
pursued,  "that  I  have  not  had  time  to 
think  about  things — ^just  things  for  my- 
self." 

"This  is  not  just  for  yourself — it  is 
for  me,  too." 

She  turned  a  startled,  half-question- 
ing look  at  him. 

He  nodded  gayly,  watching  her  face. 
"Did  you  think  /  didn't  want  that 
Chinese  coat?" 

"Oh,  did  you?"  Her  face  had  flushed 
like  a  child's.  "I  thought  I  was — ^just 
silly  about  it  I" 

[32] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"So  you  were.  That's  why  I  wanted 
it  for  you.  .  .  .  But,  of  course,  it  was 
sensible  to  get  the  lot.'* 

"Of  course!"  Her  assent  was  whole- 
hearted and  happy. 

"So  now  we're  going  to  get  the  coat, 
too — to-day.  I  had  some  money  come 
in" — he  patted  his  pocket — "and  there's 
enough." 

"It  may  be  gone — !"  she  said  quickly. 

"Don't  think  so.  I  sent  over  word. 
They've  got  a  Chinese  coat." 

"Oh,  I  hope  it  is  the  same  one — !" 
She  breathed  a  happy  sigh. 

"We  ought  to  go  right  away  I"  She 
started  up. 

"Time  enough."  He  spoke  lazily.  "I 
told  them  to  hold  it — till  five  o'clock." 
He  took  out  his  watch.  "Two  hours. 
Plenty  of  time." 

She  sank  back.  Presently  she  looked 
at  him. 

•   [33] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"  I  never  guessed  how  much  I — ^wanted 
it  I  I  did  not  know!" — after  a  Httle 
pause — "I  think  I  did  not  let  myself 
know." 

Then  they  talked  for  a  while  about 
Annabel — ^whose  name  was  William 
Archer,  he  pointed  out  to  her.  .  .  . 
And  they  laid  plans  that  ran  far  ahead 
into  the  future — almost  till  Annabel  was 
an  old  lady  and  lonely — only  she  would 
have  married  by  that  time — and  there 
would  be  other  Annabels.  ...  It  seemed 
to  stretch  away  infinitely. 

It  was  all  wonderful — and  mysteri- 
ous. She  turned  and  buried  her  face  in 
the  moss  for  a  long  time  and  was  very 
quiet. 

And  overhead  a  great  bird  soared  and 
passed  by.  Richard  watched  its  high 
circling  flight. 

She  sat  up  and  dried  her  eyes  and 

[34l 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


patted  her  hair  and  began  to  pin  on  her 
hat. 

He  watched  her,  smiling  gravely. 

"Now  we  will  go  and  buy  the  coat," 
he  said — "that  wonderful  Chinese  coat 
— blue  and  gold,  I  think  you  said,  my 
dear — ^with  the  great  gold  dragons  on  it  V 


I  35  1 


Ai 


VI 


.S  they  drew  near  the  store  he  be- 
came aware  that  she  was  deeply  excited; 
there  was  a  Httle  flush  in  her  face,  and 
she  walked  with  quickened  step.  He  laid 
his  hand  on  her  arm  protectingly.  But 
she  did  not  slow  her  pace. 

"  Plenty  of  time,"  he  said  softly  in  her 
ear. 

She  only  gave  him  q.  sidelong  glance 
and  hurried  on. 

"It  may  not  be  the  one!"  she  mur- 
mured as  they  entered  the  store. 

"Then  we'll  hunt  till  we  find  one  like 
it !"  he  replied  valiantly. 

Through  the  elevator  grills  she  rec- 
ognized the  woman  who  had  waited  on 
her  before,  and  she  went  swiftly  toward 
her. 

[36] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"We  have  come  to  see  the  coat/*  she 
said  simply. 

The  woman  looked  at  her,  almost  in 
pity,  it  seemed. 

"There*s  another  party  interested  in 
the  coat —  You  mean  the  Chinese  coat, 
I  suppose  ?" 

Eleanor's  face  was  blank.  There  was  a 
little  catch  in  her  throat. 

The  woman  reached  down  a  hand  be- 
neath the  counter.  "We  promised  to  hold 
it — "  She  glanced  at  the  clock,  and  drew 
out  a  box. 

"The  other  party  said  he  was  pretty 
sure  to  take  it." 

Through  the  tissue-paper  a  maze  of 
blue  and  gold  showed  dimly. 

She  lifted  the  paper,  throwing  it  back. 

"I  guess  Fm  the  other  party,'*  said 
Richard  More.  He  stooped  forward,  smil- 
ing a  little. 

[37  1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Of  course  you  are!"  said  Eleanor 
with  a  breath  of  relief.  "Of  course  you 
are — ^the  *  other  party* !" 

She  turned  to  the  woman.  "It  was 
my  husband  wanted  to  see  it,"  she  said 
almost  proudly. 

The  woman  consulted  a  slip  of  paper. 
"Name  of  *  More*  .?**  she  asked. 

Richard  nodded.  "Let*s  have  a  look 
at  it." 

The  woman  lifted  the  garment  from 
the  box  and  flung  it  wide  on  the  counter 
before  them;  and  all  the  color  in  it 
glowed  softly  and  the  colors  that  lay 
on  the  counter  about  it  glared  and  seemed 
hard. 

"Pretty  thing!*'  said  Richard  More. 
He  pulled  his  mustache  a  little  ner- 
vously. 

The  woman  lifted  the  coat  and  shook 
it  out. 

[38] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Let  madam  try  it  on,"  she  suggested. 

She  came  from  behind  the  counter  and 
placed  it  oh  Eleanor's  shoulders,  smooth- 
ing the  folds. 

"It*s  not  a  usual  garment —  Not 
every  one  could  wear  a  garment  like 
that."  She  moved  back  a  little,  gazing 
with  half-closed  eyes. 

"It  suits  madam  perfectly!" 

The  husband  surveyed  it.  "Turn 
around,"  he  commanded. 

Eleanor  turned  and  moved  from  him 
down  the  cleared  space  to  the  mirror. 
And  he  was  conscious  of  something  re- 
mote in  her  movements.  She  seemed  to 
withdraw,  to  hold  herself  removed, 
wrapped  in  the  blue  and  gold  folds  of  the 
coat. 

He  moved  after  her  and  she  turned 
and  faced  him. 

"It's  all  right !"  he  said  approvingly. 

[39] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  half  put  out  his  hand  to  touch  an 
end  of  blue  sleeve  that  trailed  away  to  a 
tasselled  cord.  .  .  .  Then  he  withdrew 
his  hand.  "It's  all  right!"  he  repeated 
vaguely. 

The  clerk  came  forward  and  lifted  the 
tassel  and  let  it  fall  in  place;  her  fingers 
strayed  over  the  garment  in  an  easy, 
official  way. 

"How  much  is  it?"  asked  Richard 
More. 

She  consulted  the  tag  hanging  on  a 
bit  of  gold  cord  in  front.  She  dropped 
it. 

"Ninety-five  dollars,"  she  said  indif- 
ferently. 

She  stooped  to  arrange  a  fold  of  the 
coat. 

Eleanor  More  turned  a  little.  She 
seemed  to  gaze  down  with  wide,  reproach- 
ful eyes  at  the  woman's  bent  form. 

Her  husband's  tone  was  crisp.  "We 

[40] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


understood  the  price  was — less  than 
that,"  he  said. 

The  woman  straightened  herself  and 
looked  at  him.  "That  was  last  month — 
for  the  sale.  It  was  marked  down." 

"And  now  it's  marked  up,  is  it.?"  he 
asked  a  little  cynically. 

She  assented  and  touched  the  coat 
gently  with  her  fingers,  stroking  it.  "It 
is  a  coat  Mr.  Stewart  bought  himself," 
she  said — "in  China.  He  found  it  when  he 
was  buying  goods — and  liked  it.  But  weVe 
had  it  in  stock  some  time,  and  he  told 
me  to  mark  it  down  for  the  sale.  After 
that,  when  no  one  bought  it" — she 
seemed  to  look  at  Eleanor  almost  with 
reproachful  eyes — "then  he  told  me  to 
put  back  the  original  price.  .  .  .  It's 
more  than  worth  it,  of  course." 

"Of  course,"  said  Richard  absently. 
He  was  wondering  how  much  Eleanor 
really  wanted  the  coat. 

[411 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  had  not  spoken  from  the  moment 
it  was  laid  on  her  shoulders.  She  seemed 
to  have  withdrawn  into  it — to  have  be- 
come an  inaccessible  part  of  its  mystery 
and  charm. 

"I  had  not  expected — to  pay  more 
than  fifty  dollars,"  said  Richard  More 
slowly.  "I  happen  to  have  that  amount 
with  me " 

The  woman  waited  on  the  suggestion. 
.  .  .  She  looked  at  the  two  people  before 
her. 

"Fll  speak  to  Mr.  Stewart — if  he 
hasn't  gone.  It's  not  like  regular  stock. 
I  don't  know  whether  he  would  sell  it  for 
less " 

She  moved  away  from  them  down  the 
store  and  they  stood,  with  alLthe  dummy 
figures  standing  around,  and  waited  for 
her. 

Richard  More  did  not  speak.  He  longed 
to  ask  his  wife  whether  she  wanted  it  as 

[42] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


much  as  that — as  much  as  ninety-five 
dollars.  But  he  could  not  shape  the  words 
that  would  say  it.  He  almost  wondered 
whether  she  would  understand — if  he 
asked  her. 

She  stood  with  her  hands  hanging  idle 
and  her  eyes  looking  down.  She  was  like  a 
prehistoric  creature — an  Oriental  Ma- 
donna of  ageless  form  and  beauty.  .  .  . 
Almost,  he  fancied,  there  were  tears  in  the 
lidded  eyes.  ...  He  started  and  turned 
brusquely. 

The  clerk  was  coming  back.  He  looked 
at  her  keenly  as  she  came  toward  them. 

She  shook  her  head.  "Ninety-five  dol- 
lars," she  said.  "But  you  can  have  a 
charge,  of  course." 

His  hand  moved  to  his  pocket  and  his 
eyes  were  on  his  wife*s  face. 

She  turned,  with  a  shiver  of  the  long 
silken  lines,  and  she  threw  back  the  coat 
with  a  laugh. 

[43 1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"How  absurd,  Richard! —  We  can't 
pay  all  that  money — for  a  whim  ! " 

His  hand  stayed  itself  from  the  pocket. 
"Don't  you  want  it?"  he  asked  doubt- 
ingly. 

"Of  course  not!"  She  shook  the  coat 
from  her  and  stepped  out. 

The  woman  caught  it  with  a  quick  ges- 
ture as  it  fell. 

His  hand  waited,  fingering  the  coins 
in  his  pocket.  "I  think  we  could  manage 
it " 

"Oh — !  I  don't  want  it !  "  She  ignored 
the  woman.  She  moved  swiftly  past  her 
and  was  half-way  to  the  elevator.  He 
sprang  after  her,  with  a  backward  glance 
of  apology  at  the  woman,  who  stood  with 
the  coat  on  her  arm,  gazing  after  them. 

In  the  elevator  Eleanor  shivered  a  little, 
and  he  squeezed  her  arm  in  his  in  the 
darkness. 

[44] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"It's  all  right!"  he  said  soothingly, 
beneath  his  breath. 

She  nodded  and  pressed  a  little  against 
him. 

When  they  stepped  into  the  light  he 
glanced  at  her  face.  It  had  almost  a  tragic 
look. 

"Better  go  back  and  get  it,"  he  said 
peremptorily.  "Hang  the  price  !" 

But  she  shook  her  head. 

Half-way  to  the  door,  he  touched 
her  arm.  "Let's  get  it!"  he  said  coax- 
ingly. 

"/  dorCt  want  it/*'  She  turned  a  gaze 
on  him — half-tragic,  half-humorous.  .  .  . 
"Do  you  know  why  I  would  not  get 
it?"  she  demanded. 

"I  don't  know  anything !"  he  declared, 
jostling  through  the  crowd  to  keep  pace 
with  her.  "I'm  incapable  of  knowing — 
anything!'* 

[45] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  smiled — a  little  wistful  smile — up 
at  him.  "I  wouldn't  get  it.  .  .  .  Can  you 
hear  me .?" 

"Yes.  I  can  hear  you."  He  bent  his 
head  to  her,  and  they  moved  as  a  unit 
through  the  crowd.  **I  can  hear  you.  Go 
ahead!" 

"I  thought  suddenly" — she  gasped  a 
little — "how  awful  it  would  be  if  Annabel 
should  ever  want  to  have  clothes — things 
to  wear — as  badly  as  I  wanted  that  coat 
— and  all  those  dear  little  beasts  winding 
around  on  it !  .  .  .  It  wasn't  a  coat!" 
Her  lips  were  close  to  his  ear,  a  little  smile 
seemed  to  run  from  them  to  him,  and  he 
laughed  out. 

"It  wasn't  a  coat!"  she  said  fiercely. 
"It  was  a  blue  and  gold  temptation — 
with   dragons  I  I  wouldn't  have  it — at 


any  price !' 


'Not  for  fifty  dollars  .?"  he  asked — and 

1 46] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


he  bent  a  keen  look  at  her  unconscious 
face  in  the  crowd. 

"Not  if  they  would  give  it  to  me!" 
she  said  with  swift  decision.  "  I  want  An- 
nabel to  be  mild  in  her  nature  !'* 

Richard  More  followed  her.  Privately 
he  fancied  that  Annabel  would  be  a  per- 
son who  would  know  her  own  mind.  If  she 
wanted  a  blue  and  gold  coat,  she  would 
have  it,  he  thought;  and  if  she  didn't 
want  a  blue  and  gold  coat,  she  wouldn't 
have  it,  he  thought.  .  .  .  And  William 
Archer —  ?  Well — blue  and  gold  were  not 
exactly  colors  to  be  desired  in  the  case  of 
William  Archer.  In  any  case  Annabel 
and  William  Archer  must  look  out  for 
themselves. 

He  was  going  back  to-morrow,  or  the 
first  chance  he  could,  and  buy  that  Chi- 
nese coat  for  his  wife.  He  wanted  it  for 
her.  ...  As  they  made  their  way  out  of 

[47] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


the  store,  he  saw  it  again,  wrapped  about 
her,  and  he  saw  the  down-bent  face  with 
its  look  of  mystery,  rising  above  the  shim- 
mering folds. 


[48] 


VII 

OHE  seemed  to  have  brought  away 
with  her  some  secret  of  the  coat — a  touch 
of  its  mystery  and  charm. 

Richard  watched  her  as  she  went 
about  the  house,  occupied  with  Httle 
things.  He  fancied  there  was  a  look  in  her 
face  that  came  and  went  shadowily — as 
if  the  curtains  before  a  hidden  place  were 
swept  aside  by  an  unseen  wind.  .  .  .  And 
before  he  could  look  again — it  was  gone. 

Her  face  in  repose  was  very  common- 
place, he  knew;  it  had  grown  a  little  full 
and  there  was  a  humorous,  almost  con- 
ceited, little  upward  twist  to  the  mouth, 
that  he  found  annoying.  .  .  .  And  then 
suddenly,  when  she  was  off  guard,  the 
look  had  fled  and  he  was  gazing  at  the 
strange  face. 

He  found  himself  growing  troubled, 

[49] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


driven  by  a  force  he  did  not  quite  com- 
prehend— a  disbeHef  in  the  solid  earth 
and  the  turning  of  the  seasons.  .  .  .He 
had  sown  grass-seed  in  the  new  lot;  the 
wall  was  finished  and  vines  had  been 
planted  at  its  base.  But  the  lot  had  to 
his  eyes  an  unsubstantial  look.  He  had 
an  almost  superstitious  feeling  that  it 
had  been  bought  with  a  price. 

He  had  gone  back  for  the  Chinese 
coat  the  Monday  morning  after  they  were 
there.  He  was  waiting  at  the  door  when 
the  store  opened  and  he  hurried  directly 
to  the  first  floor,  too  impatient  to  wait 
for  the  elevator  to  make  its  trip. 

The  woman  saw  him  coming.  She 
stopped  her  work  and  waited.  ...  He 
fancied  her  look  was  a  little  startled. 

He  told  her  he  would  take  the  coat. 
He  would  pay  part  on  it  and  have  the 
rest  charged — he  would  take  it  with  him. 
[so] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Little  by  little  he  grasped  the  fact 
that  the  coat  was  gone. 

"  But  we  were  here  late  !  There  was  no 
one  else.  .  .  .  You  had  no  chance  to  sell 
it!"  He  could  have  believed  she  was  ly- 
ing to  him. 

But  her  face  was  open — and  there  was 
unmistakable  regret  in  her  voice.  "I 
would  have  reserved  it  for  you  with 
pleasure  over  Sunday,  or  longer — if  you 
had  told  me.  ...  I  thought  your  wife 
did  not  care  for  it." 

"She — she  may  have  thought  the  price 
was  a  little  steep,"  he  admitted.  "But  I 
wanted  her  to  have  it — I  intended  she 
should  have  it." 

"I  am  sorry.  A  woman  came — not  two 
minutes  after  you  left — I  still  had  the 
coat  on  my  arm.  She  must  have  been  in 
the  elevator  that  came  up  as  you  went 
down.  .  .  .  And  the  minute  she  saw  the 
[SI  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


coat  she  stopped.  She  seemed  to  know  she 
wanted  it. 

"I  tried  it  on  her  right  there  where  we 
stood,  and  she  bought  it  and  paid  for  it 
and  took  it  away.  ...  I  don't  think  she 
meant  to  buy  a  coat  when  she  came  up. 
She  was  looking  for  something  else,  I 
think,  and  happened  to  see  the  coat  and 
took  a  fancy  to  it  and  bought  it.  Vm 
sorry  you  did  not  tell  me  to  save  it.  .  .  . 
It  was  much  more  becoming  to  your 
wife.  It  really  seemed  made  for  your 
wife."  Her  voice  was  full  of  interest  and 
a  gentle  kindness. 

There  were  no  customers  in  the  store; 
he  felt  as  if  he  and  the  woman  were 
alone  in  a  vast  place.  She  was  not  a  mere 
clerk.  She  seemed  linked  with  the  coat 
and  its  destiny,  and  with  their  lives. 

He  thanked  her  and  went  away.  And 
the  next  day  he  went  again  to  see  if 

[52] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


they  could  get  him  a  duplicate  of  the 
coat — if  he  left  an  order. 

She  looked  at  him  tolerantly.  "A  coat 
like  that,"  her  glance  seemed  to  say,  "is 
to  be  taken  when  you  have  the  chance — 
and  not  be  coming  back  for  duplicate 
orders !" 

"There  was  not  a  chance  in  a  thou- 
sand," she  told  him. 

"I'll  take  your  order,  of  course,  and 
ril  tell  Mr.  Stewart.  But  they  don't 
make  those  coats  by  the  dozen;  and,  be- 
sides, it  is  very,  very  old — hundreds  of 
years,  perhaps." 

"I  know !"  He  groaned  a  little. 

He  seemed  to  see  all  the  mysterious 
color  of  the  coat  and  the  shimmer  of  its 
folds — and  the  look  in  Eleanor's  face. 
"I  hope  you  can  get  something  like  it 
for  us,"  he  said  inanely. 

He  had  not  gone  back  to  inquire  again. 
[S3  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


They  had  his  address;  they  were  to  send 
him  word  if  they  found  anything.  Mr. 
Stewart  was  to  make  a  trip  to  the  East 
very  soon.  She  would  send  him  word. 

It  was  left  at  that.  They  would  send 
him  word.  ...  He  planned,  in  the  back 
of  his  mind,  to  buy  the  coat  for  Eleanor* 
but  not  to  give  it  to  her — not  just  yet. 
He  would  buy  it,  he  thought,  and  put  it 
away;  and  when  William  Archer  arrived, 
he  would  bring  it  out  and  throw  it  about 
her  shoulders.  He  liked  to  fancy  her  in  it 
and  to  think  how  it  would  help  her  disap- 
pointment about  Annabel.  .  .  .  She  could 
enjoy  it  to  the  full.  She  would  not  be 
afraid  of  injuring  Annabel  or  her  morals — 
when  William  Archer  was  there  ! 

But  no  word  came  and  the  months 
slipped  by. 


[54] 


Ti 


VIII 


HEN,  one  evening,  Richard  More 
came  home  from  the  office  and  found  a 
new  look  in  his  house.  He  knew  it,  even 
before  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  nurse's 
white  cap  hurrying  through  the  lower  hall 
and  before  the  doctor  met  him  at  the  foot 
of  the  stair. 

"I  am  just  going,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Going — .?"  Richard  caught  himself. 
"Has  it  come?" 

The  doctor  smiled  at  him — at  the  igno- 
rance and  youthful  credulity  of  it. 

"I  shall  be  back  in  an  hour  or  two. 
Everything  is  going  splendidly.  Your 
wife  has  courage !"  And  he  was  gone. 

"Courage — Eleanor .?  Of  course  she  had 
courage !  She  was  made  of  it.  What  did 
the  doctor  know  about  Eleanor's  cour- 
[SS  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


age?"  He  hurried  up  the  stairs  .  .  . 
the  fleeting  sense  of  Hfe  in  his  quick 
steps. 

She  turned  to  him  with  the  Httle  up- 
ward twist  of  her  Hp.  "It's  all  right, 
Dickie  V 

There  was  no  mystery,  no  courage — 
only  Eleanor's  competent  look  as  if  there 
were  dusting  to  be  done,  and  men-folks 
were  better  out  of  the  way.  .  .  .  And 
yet,  behind  it,  he  had  a  sense  that  she 
withdrew  to  some  high  place,  to  a  re- 
mote, inaccessible  cliff,  and  looked  down 
on  him  with  wide  eyes. 

He  wandered  miserably  about  the 
house;  a  part  of  the  night  he  slept,  and 
part  of  it  he  spent  at  the  telephone, 
sending  orders  for  the  doctor  and  nurse, 
and  answering  the  door-bell  when  the  re- 
sponse came.  ...  All  through  the  early 
hours  he  longed  fiercely  for  the  arrival 
[56] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


of  William  Archer.  Then,  as  the  night 
went  on,  he  lost  interest  in  William 
Archer  and  his  coming,  and  would  have 
welcomed  Annabel.  .  .  .  And  he  cast 
aside  even  the  thought  of  Annabel.  He 
longed  only  for  an  end  to  the  misery. 
.  .  .  And  when  at  last  the  doctor  said 
in  businesslike  tones,  "A  fine  girl,  Mr. 
More  i"  he  only  blinked  at  him,  and  his 
tousled  hair  took  on  a  more  rebellious 
twist. 

"A  fine  girl !  What  of  it !  .  .  .  What 
had  girls  to  do  with  this.?" 

"A  fine  girl"  did  not  connect  herself, 
in  any  vague  way,  with  Annabel  or  with 
life.  .  .  .  Probably  a  new  girl  for  the 
kitchen.  .  .  . !  Well,  they  needed  a  girl ! 
They  needed  a  dozen  girls  ! 

He  wandered  out  miserably — and  the 
doctor  followed  him  with  a  quick  look 
and  something  in  a  glass. 
[57] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Here,  drink  this!" 

And  Richard  drank  it — and  looked  at 
him  stupidly.  Something  was  happening 
inside  his  brain — things  were  growing 
more  settled  and  luminous.  A  smile 
wreathed  his  face. 

"It's  a  girl,  is  it?"  he  cried  jubilantly. 

The  doctor  nodded. 

Richard  More  clapped  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Good  work!"  he  said. 

The  doctor  removed  the  shoulder 
gently.  He  turned  toward  Eleanor's 
room. 

"You  can  stay  outside,"  he  said  as  he 
disappeared.  "We  shall  not  need  you  for 
a  while." 

And  Richard  sat  down  in  his  parlor 
on  the  small  sofa  and  took  his  tousled 
head  in  his  hands  and  held  it  fast.  He 
may  have  dozed  a  little. 
[58] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


When  he  got  up  and  straggled  to  the 
kitchen,  he  found  a  strange  woman 
making  a  fire  in  the  range. 

She  had  finished  poHshing  off  the  top 
of  the  range  and  held  a  black  cloth  in 
her  hand.  The  hand  was  very  black,  he 
noticed. 

He  nodded  to  her  and  went  past  her 
to  the  door  and  opened  it.  The  world 
looked  very  fresh.  The  earth  and  the 
grass  on  either  side  the  path  were  very 
dark  and  moist — as  if  they  had  been 
dipped  in  some  curious  fluid,  and  the 
sky  had  a  kind  of  luminous  quality — 
swelling  with  fulness  and  a  freshness  of 
light. 

Richard  More  looked  up  at  it  and 
drew  in  a  deep  breath — and  with  the  in- 
take he  understood,  for  the  first  time, 
that  all  men  see  the  earth  new-washed 
one  morning  in  their  lives.  He  had  a 
[59] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


sense  of  kinship  with  the  earth  and  with 
every  one  Hving  on  the  earth. 

When  he  turned  back  to  the  kitchen, 
the  woman  was  putting  the  black  cloth 
under  the  sink. 

"It's  a  girl !"  he  said.  He  tried  in  vain 
to  keep  the  morning  out  of  his  voice. 

"Glory  be  to  God!"  said  the  woman. 
She  turned  promptly  and  straightened 
her  back  and  beamed  on  him. 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  her  and  grasped 
the  blackened  one.  He  did  not  suspect 
how  many  young  fathers  had  shaken 
hands  with  cooks. 

His  experience  was  unique.  He  looked 
about  the  kitchen  with  satisfaction. 

Ellen  Murphy  brought  some  broth 
and  put  it  on  the  gas-range. 

He  watched  her  with  kindling  eyes. 

He  had  been  familiar  with  his  kitchen 
before.  But  it  had  not  looked  to  him  just 
as  it  looked  now.  .  .  .  That  broth  she 

[60] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


was  heating  was  for  his  wife  ...  to  keep 
her  alive.  He  looked  at  a  row  of  sauce- 
pans with  intelligent  gaze. 

Ellen  Murphy  tested  the  broth  and 
went  from  the  room,  carrying  it  with 
careful  hand. 

He  watched  her  disappear  and  looked 
about  the  homelike  room.  .  .  .  She  was 
going  to  feed  Eleanor.  Just  outside  the 
door  was  the  ice-box,  where  he  had  blun- 
dered in  the  night,  breaking  up  the  ice, 
crushing  it  for  the  doctor — they  had  told 
him  to  hurry — hurry !  .  .  .  Ages  ago  it 
seemed.  And  now  Eleanor  was  to  have 
her  broth.  She  was  being  fed.  .  .  .  Those 
stew-pans  over  there  were  for  her.  Some- 
how out  of  this  kitchen,  she  was  to  be  fed, 
his  baby  was  being  fed — they  were  all 
being  fed ! 


[6i  ] 


H 


IX 


.E  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockets 
and  strolled  down  the  back  path  to  the 
chicken-yard.  He  peered  through  the  wire 
at  the  strutting  fowls.  His  hair  was 
tousled,  there  were  red  rims  about  his 
eyes — and  he  had  never  felt  so  alive. 

The  chicken-yard  was  close  to  the  back 
fence;  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence 
were  chicken-yards  that  belonged  to  the 
houses  at  the  rear. 

They  were  very  common  people  in 
the  houses  at  the  rear.  And  the  houses 
themselves,  facing  on  the  parallel  street, 
were  unsightly  and  small.  Richard  had 
taken  pains  to  have  no  relations  with  the 
houses  in  the  rear.  He  had  an  instinctive 
sense  that  it  might  lead  to  complications. 

A  man  was  at  work  in  the  yard  across 
the  fence,  digging  a  post-hole.  Richard's 

[62] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


eye  fell  on  him.  He  came  nearer  to  the 
fence  and  leaned  on  it  and  looked  over. 
The  man  looked  up. 

Richard  nodded.  "Fine  morning!"  he- 
called. 

The  man  nodded  a  reply,  and  shifted 
his  pipe  in  his  teeth  and  thrust  his  shovel 
into  the  ground.  His  back  was  very 
broad,  Richard  noticed.  There  was  some- 
thing mighty  in  the  swing  of  the  great 
shoulders  as  they  flung  up  the  earth  out 
of  the  hole. 

Richard  watched  a  minute  in  silence. 
The  man  paused  and  wiped  his  forehead 
with  the  back  of  his  hand.  He  spit 
casually  on  his  palms  and  took  up  the 
shovel. 

Richard's  voice  halted  him  and  he 
put  down  the  shovel  and  came  over  to 
the  fence.  Richard  smiled  a  little  awk- 
wardly. 

[63  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"I  didn't  mean  to  stop  your  work.  I 
was  wondering  what  you  were  going  to 
put  there."  He  indicated  the  hole. 

The  man's  face  was  broad,  and  a  little 
stupid.  It  stared  at  Richard.  Then  it 
looked  at  the  hole. 

"It's  a  new  run  I'm  making  for  the 
hens.  The  old  one's  dusty." 

"I  see!  .  .  .  You've  got  a  fine  lot  of 
birds  !"  Richard  waved  a  hand. 

"Pretty  good!"  The  man  eyed  them 
with  slow  pride.  "Got  nine  eggs  yester- 
day," he  said. 

"It's  a  great  morning!"  responded 
Richard. 

The  man's  gaze  lifted  itself  to  the  clear, 
fresh-washed  sky,  and  came  back  and 
rested  on  the  oak-tree  across  the  lot. 
"You've  got  a  pretty  place — nice  tree 
over  there !" 

Richard    wheeled    and    faced    it.    "I 

[64] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


bought  that  tree  last  spring — ^needed 
more  room — for  the  children — to  play." 
He  spoke  with  offhand  fatherhood. 

"You  got  children  ?'*  said  the  man. 
His  voice  was  astonished  and  a  little 
pleased. 

"One,"  said  Richard.  "A  little  girl." 

The  man  nodded  pleasantly.  "I  never 
saw  her  playing  round,"  he  said  simply. 

"No — ^well  .  .  .  She  was  born  this 
morning!"  Richard  laughed  out. 

The  man  smiled  at  him  a  slow,  deep 
smile.  .  .  .  And  all  his  face  changed  in 
the  light. 

"Say,  that's  great !"  he  exclaimed. 

"You're  a  man  now!"  he  added  after 
a  minute.  The  rough  face  grew  quiet  and 
strong.  And  Richard  had  a  sense  of  some- 
thing human  that  stirred  in  him.  This 
man  digging  a  post-hole  had  known  ! 

They  stood  a  minute  in  silence,  looking 
[6s  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


about  them  at  the  morning  and  the  free 
space  of  sky  and  watching  the  sun  that 
had  come  over  the  roofs  of  the  shabby 
houses. 

It  shone  full  in  Richard's  eyes.  He 
turned  abruptly. 

"I  must  go  in  for  breakfast." 

The  man  spat  absently  on  the  ground 
and  went  back  to  his  shovelling. 

In  the  chicken-yard  the  hens  scuttled 
about,  picking  up  chaff  and  bits  of  grain 
out  of  the  dust.  Over  in  the  corner  of 
Richard  More's  yard  stood  the  great 
oak-tree  spreading  its  branches  wide; 
and  in  the  lot  at  the  rear  the  stolid,  un- 
kempt man  lifted  his  shovel  and  thrust 
it  into  the  ground  and  threw  out  a  hand- 
ful of  earth.  .  .  . 

As  Richard  went  up  the  path,  he 
glanced  at  the  house —  The  blinds  of  the 
upper  window  to  the  east  were  being 
[66] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


drawn  carefully  together.  .  .  .  She  was 
lying  there  in  the  shaded  room.  She 
would  be  sleeping  now.  .  .  .  And  sud- 
denly he  saw  her  in  the  blue  coat,  as  if 
she  lay  wrapped  in  its  folds — in  her 
slumber.  He  had  a  sense  of  loss — that  he 
had  not  given  it  to  her.  .  .  .  Perhaps  he 
should  never  be  able  to  give  it  to  her  now. 
He  glanced  at  the  oak-tree,  standing 
majestic  in  the  lot  across  the  lawn  with 
its  great  gnarled  roots  protruding  from 
the  ground.  And  as  he  went  up  the  path 
he  had  a  sudden  blind  sense,  almost  of 
anger,  at  the  oak-tree  and  its  strength. 


[67] 


Ti 


X 


HE  thing  that  surprised  Richard 
most  was  the  ease  and  efficiency  with 
which  Eleanor  handled  Annabel — she 
seemed  to  know  by  instinct  things  that 
Richard  could  not  understand — and  that 
he  could  not  understand  how  she  came 
by. 

If  she  reached  out  her  hands  to  take 
Annabel,  her  fingers  seemed,  of  them- 
selves, to  curve  Into  the  places  where  they 
would  fit  Into  the  spineless  bundle  and 
give  it  support.  If  Richard  tried  to  take 
up  the  bundle,  his  fingers  fell  away  like 
the  legs  of  the  brittle  crab  and  the  bun- 
dle collapsed,  Incalculable  and  helpless. 

"How  do  you  do  It.?"  he  would  say. 
And  he  would  right  Annabel  and  try  to 
still  her  protests. 

And  Eleanor  would  only  smile  gently, 
[68] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


and  send  him  on  some  masculine  errand 
while  she  soothed  Annabel's  feelings  in 
the  proper  way. 

Richard  had  once  watched  a  cat  with 
her  kittens  and  he  had  a  vivid  sense  of 
the  kinship  of  method — so  had  kittens 
always  been  brought  into  the  world  and 
tended;  so  they  would  always  be — like- 
wise babies. 

It  was  not  something  that  could  be 
read  in  a  book  or  taught  in  a  school.  .  .  . 
Eleanor  grew  very  beautiful  these  days. 
The  little  upward  twist  left  her  mouth; 
and  if  it  grew  almost  too  knowing  in  its 
sense  of  the  boundless  and  accumulated 
wisdom  of  ages  as  regards  babies — that, 
Richard  decided,  was  Annabel's  fault. 
.  .  .  Really,  to  know  how  to  manage  a 
little  handful  like  Annabel  might  make 
any  one  proud. 

For  one  thing,  Annabel  knew  exactly 
[69] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


what  she  wanted.  .  .  .  And  she  usually 
got  it.  She  was  often  disciplined  on  the 
way  to  it,  and  thwarted — but  in  the  end 
she  got  what  she  wanted. 

As  Richard  More  watched  Annabel's 
progress  through  life,  he  thought  more 
than  once  of  the  regal  gesture  with  which 
Annabel's  mother  had  thrown  back  the 
Chinese  coat  and  cast  it  aside  for  Anna- 
bel's sake.  .  .  . 

And  now  he  saw  Annabel ! 

Life  was  often  very  puzzling.  But 
Richard  More  had  not  time  to  spend 
working  it  out.  He  was  too  prosperous 
to  puzzle.  Whatever  he  put  his  hand  to 
seemed  to  flourish.  Men  came  to  have 
faith  in  his  ventures,  and  to  watch  for 
his  investments  as  pointers  to  success. 
His  business  increased  and  his  family 
increased.  .  .  .  William  Archer  came  in 
due  season,  and  then  Claude,  and  then 

[70] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Martin,  and  Christine,  and  that  was 
the  end. 

The  children  grew  up  healthy  and  nor- 
mal, except  Claude.  There  seemed  some 
obscure  trouble  with  the  boy,  and  be- 
fore he  was  six  years  old  it  had  declared 
itself.  Within  a  year,  in  spite  of  expen- 
sive doctors  and  care,  he  died.  That  had 
been  their  first  and  their  only  real  sorrow. 

It  was  when  they  came  back  to  the 
house  from  the  funeral  that  he  told 
Eleanor  of  his  second  attempt  to  get  the 
coat  for  her.  .  .  .  They  were  alone  in  the 
house.  The  children  had  been  sent  away 
during  the  child's  illness  and  had  not 
come  back. 

He  fancied  Eleanor  drooped  a  little 
as  they  came  into  the  house;  and  his 
mind  went  out  for  something  to  comfort 
her.  ...  It  encountered  the  Chinese 
coat. 

[71  I 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


So,  as  they  sat  together  in  the  house 
that  seemed  so  curiously  desolate  and  dif- 
ferent from  their  usual  life  together,  he 
told  her  of  the  morning  he  went  back 
to  Stewart's  and  of  his  disappointment, 
and  of  how  he  had  never  quite  given 
up  hope  that  some  day  Stewart  would 
send  for  him  and  tell  him  to  come  and 
get  the  coat. 

She  listened  with  wide,  set  eyes — al- 
most like  a  child  to  a  fairy-tale. 

"That  was  very  dear  of  you,  Rich- 
ard!" she  said.  And  she  smiled  to  him, 
almost  as  she  smiled  to  the  children, 
and  he  felt  the  quick  tears  in  his  eyes. 

And  then  suddenly  she  had  thrown 
herself  in  his  arms. 

"Oh,  Dick,  I  am  so  lonely !"  she  cried. 

And  that  was  the  way  she  came  back 
to  him. 

After  that,  although  she  still  guided 
[72] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


the  children  and  her  hand  was  on  the 
helm  in  all  decisions,  it  was  to  Richard 
she  turned  for  assurance. 

She  had  come  apparently  to  uncharted 
waters,  and  she  did  not  try  to  make 
soundings. 

And  Richard  More  was  as  puzzled  by 
her  reliance  on  him  as  he  had  been  by 
her  wisdom  with  babies  and  with  Hfe. 

It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  in  her 
reliance,  too,  there  might  be  a  kind  of 
wisdom — not  to  be  expounded  by  logic, 
perhaps — but  deep  as  life.  .  .  .  For  him- 
self, he  knew  that  he  had  not  wisdom 
to  advise  any  one.  He  simply  did  what 
he  could — and  when  his  advice  prospered, 
he  was  as  naively  and  proudly  surprised 
as  any  one. 


[73  ] 


Ti 


XI 


HE  children  were  brought  up  in 
the  oak-tree.  Richard  made  a  cradle- 
box  at  the  end  of  one  of  the  low  boughs 
that  almost  swept  the  ground  and  there 
was  always  one  baby  in  the  box  on  the 
bough  and  one  on  the  ground  among 
the  roots — a  new  one  that  had  just  come 
down  from  the  bough. 

And  then,  presently,  one  of  those  on 
the  ground — ^with  the  help  of  Eleanor 
and  a  chair — climbed  to  the  first  branches 
close  to  the  trunk.  .  .  .  Then  another 
one  climbed,  and  another,  till  they  were 
all  swarming  in  the  great  oak — no  longer 
close  to  the  trunk,  but  far  out  on  the 
branches  among  the  leaves,  swinging 
and  lilting  in  the  wind. 

The  boys  played  they  were  sailors 
climbing  the  masts  that  swayed  giddily 

[74] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


beneath  them;  they  sat  on  cross-beams 
and  gazed  out  to  sea;  or  they  were  on 
the  scaffolding  of  tall  buildings,  hammer- 
ing great  steel  beams  into  place  as  the 
sky-scrapers  rose  in  the  air;  or  they 
were  the  advance  force  of  an  army — 
scouting  aeroplanes,  swooping  toward  a 
besieged  town. 

Between  the  branches  of  the  great 
tree  and  the  wind  that  swayed  them  or 
drove  shrilly  against  them,  the  boys  ad- 
ventured on  life.  But  Annabel  made  of 
the  tree  an  outdoor  home  as  like  the  one 
across  the  lawn  as  the  leaves  and  branches 
and  a  great  trunk  shooting  up  through 
the  centre  would  permit.  The  tree-trunk 
was  the  chimney,  of  course,  and  she  had 
roaring  fires  in  every  room,  up  stairs  and 
down,  and  cooking  and  sweeping  and 
dusting,  with  lively  flourishes  and  much 
running  up  and  down  stairs.  She  was  a 
[7Sl 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


little  lonely  at  times,  because  the  boys 
— ^who  did  not  really  care  for  the  game — 
would  suddenly  desert  her  for  excursions 
in  the  aeroplanes,  or  to  shoot  arrows  from 
the  house-top.  She  was  liable  to  find  her- 
self, at  any  moment,  with  her  house 
swept  and  dusted,  and  no  one  to  live 
in  it  with  her.  Only  down  from  the  top 
among  the  leaves  and  the  swaying  limbs 
would  come  wild  growls  and  quick  whis- 
pers— intent  and  breathless  calls  to  ac- 
tion. .  .  .  Then  Annabel  would  leave 
her  dust-cloths  and  her  pots  and  pans, 
and  creep  stealthily  up,  up,  up — till  the 
topmost  branch  was  reached,  and  the 
wind  blew  in  her  face,  and  her  little  pig- 
tails stood  straight  out  with  delight  and 
she  was  filled  with  the  glow  of  life.  For 
days  she  would  play  the  game  in  the  top 
of  the  tree.  And  then,  some  morning,  she 
would  find  herself  back  among  her  trea- 

[76] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


sures — her  sticks  and  bits  of  moss  and 
leaves,  close  to  the  trunk  of  the  tree, 
going  up  and  down  stairs  in  happy  con- 
tent; and  her  imagination  would  grow 
deep  and  intent.  Her  face,  pressed  against 
the  bark,  seemed  no  longer  to  need  the 
swing  of  the  dangerous  branches  and  the 
surging  of  the  wind  to  rouse  it.  She  would 
sit  close  to  the  trunk  of  the  tree  on  a 
solid  limb,  and  play  the  great  game  al- 
most without  stirring — a  deep  silent  game 
that  stirred  her  to  the  very  core.  .  .  . 
The  boys  were  willing  to  play  house 
with  her  and  sometimes  to  sweep  and 
dust  a  little  along  the  branches,  and 
visit  back  and  forth,  upstairs  and  down. 
But  as  for  sitting  on  a  limb,  intent  and 
still,  gazing  at  what  went  on  beneath 
the  line  of  sight!  .  .  .  They  left  her 
sitting  there  alone,  gazing  at  nothing, 
and  fled  to  the  top  of  the  tree  and  yelled 
[77] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


with  shrill  vacant  calls  of  delight  and 
relief. 

But  when  the  youngest  baby,  who 
proved  happily  to  be  a  girl,  when  the 
time  for  climbing  came — when  this  young- 
est baby  had  been  pulled  and  boosted 
by  Annabe  up  into  the  tree  beside  her, 
and  when  two  of  them  could  sit  happily 
side  by  side,  looking  at  each  other  in 
silence,  then  there  seemed  a  fairer  division 
of  forces. 

Gradually  the  boys,  when  they  ven- 
tured far  out  on  dangerous  limbs,  would 
feel  a  silent  tug  pulling  them  back  to 
the  heart  of  things. 

And  underneath  the  tree  where  the 
children  played,  Eleanor  sat  with  her 
sewing  or  reading  or  with  the  youngest 
baby  on  her  lap,  and  sang  to  it  or  played 
with  it  till  it  was  time  for  it  to  sleep  in 
its  cradle-box  in  the  tree.  ... 

[78] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


And  Richard  coming  home  at  night, 
or  at  noon  on  half-holidays,  would  find 
his  family  there,  and  he  would  climb 
with  the  boys,  or  sit  with  Eleanor  under 
the  tree,  or  play  with  the  youngest  baby. 
Or  he  would  stroll  with  his  pipe  back 
and  forth  across  the  lawn,  puffing  it  and 
listening  to  the  voices  that  came  from  the 
tree,  or  watch  his  wife,  with  the  sunlight 
and  the  shadow-leaves  falling  on  her 
work. 

Sometimes  he  took  them  all  for  ex- 
cursions into  the  country — at  first  in 
street-cars,  crowding  and  piling  in;  and 
then  in  the  old  surrey  that  was  big 
enough  to  carry  them  all;  and  at  last 
in  the  touring-car  that  swept  up  the 
miles. 

There  was  no  pause  in  his  prosperity; 
though  the  tax  of  the  growing  family 
made  it  a  little  difficult  sometimes  to 

[79] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


adjust  business  and  family  demands.  .  .  . 
And  then  suddenly  the  money  began  to 
come  in  and  pile  up  faster  than  he  could 
use  it.  He  was  counted  one  of  the  solid 
men  of  the  region;  and  the  family  life 
expanded  on  all  sides.  The  problem  now 
was  not  whether  the  business  could  af- 
ford it,  but  whether  the  children's  char- 
acters could  afford  it. 

Richard  and  Eleanor  sought  for  ex- 
pensive schools  that  would  force  a  child 
to  live  simply  and  fare  hard  and  think 
keen  and  straight;  and  when  no  such 
schools  were  to  be  found,  Richard  took 
William  Archer  out  of  the  expensive 
school  that  was  making  a  nonentity  of 
him,  and  put  him  into  the  business  and 
drove  him  hard. 

And  Annabel  was  brought  home  on 
the  plea  that  her  mother  needed  her. 

[  80  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  was  not  quite  strong  that  year,  it 
seemed. 

So  Annabel  took  charge  of  the  house — 
and  of  Eleanor  and  Richard,  and  of 
every  one  in  sight. 


[8i] 


Ti 


XII 


HAT  Annabel  knew  her  own  mind, 
there  was  no  question;  and  that  Annabel 
also  knew  her  mother's  mind,  there  was 
no  question  in  Annabel's  mind.  .  .  .  She 
was  not  perhaps  altogether  responsible 
for  this  feeling  about  her  mother.  It 
would  have  taken  a  more  astute  person 
than  Annabel  to  discover  that  all  that 
went  on  underneath  Eleanor  More's  quiet 
look  was  not  open  for  the  world  to  read. 

Annabel  loved  her  mother  and  trusted 
her;  and  to  the  best  of  her  ability  she 
took  care  of  her — though  she  knew,  with 
a  kind  of  fierce  pity,  that  her  mother 
could  never  be  of  her  own  generation, 
and  that  she  could  not  know  the  real 
nature  of  the  plans  and  visions  that 
swept  before  that  generation. 

[82] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"I  am  a  suffragist!"  she  announced 
one  day  in  swift  assertion. 

And  Eleanor  More  looked  up  with  a 
quiet  smile.  "I  am  one,  too,"  she  re- 
plied. 

Annabel  stared  at  her  a  minute.  "I 
didn't  know  you  were — a  suffragist !" 

Then  she  looked  at  her  with  slow  sus- 
picion. 

"You  know  what  a  suffragist  is,  don't 
yQu?" 

"Yes."  Eleanor  went  on  with  her  sew- 
ing. 

"Oh—!  Well.  .  .  .  /  am  going  to 
march — in  the  procession!"  She  was 
watching  her  mother's  face. 

"When  is  the  procession?"  There  was 
a  little  upward  twist  to  Eleanor's  lip 
that  might  have  been  amusement  at 
her  position,  or  dismay.  "When  did  you 
say  the  procession  is  ?" 

[83] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


«' 


'Next  week — Monday.  .  .  .  You  go- 
ing to  march  ?" 

"Yes."  Eleanor  threaded  her  needle 
and  drew  in  the  end  and  twisted  it  into 
a  skilful  knot.  "Yes — I  think  I  shall 
march."  It  was  quite  casual,  and  she  in- 
spected her  work. 

"Well—!"  Annabel  turned  it  in  her 
mind.  "You'd  better  get  a  short  skirt — 
if  you  are  going  to  march.  You  haven't 
a  thing  that  clears  the  mud  !" 

"Very  well." 

So  Annabel  had  out  her  mother's 
wardrobe  and  turned  and  planned,  and 
had  a  woman  in  to  shorten  a  skirt  for 
her.  And  all  the  days  before  the  parade, 
she  watched  her  solicitously,  and  waited 
on  her — as  if  she  were  an  invalid. 

"I  can't  bear  to  have  you  march  in 
that  old  parade!"  she  exclaimed  almost 
viciously. 

[84] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"I  don't  mind  it." 

"I  don't  suppose  you  do.  .  .  .  But  / 
mind  it  for  you  !"  She  rumpled  her  hair, 
with  a  quick  gesture,  Hke  a  boy's.  "I've 
no  idea  what  they'll  do.  They  may 
throw  sticks  at  you,  or — eggs  !" 

"Well,  if  it  doesn't  hurt  you,  it  won't 
hurt  me,"  said  Eleanor  placidly. 

Annabel  stared  at  her.  Then  she  smiled. 
She  shook  her  head. 

"It  isn't  the  same  thing,"  she  declared. 
"You  little  know — how  much  it  isn't 
the  same  thing!" 

And,  after  all,  the  parade  was  not  so 
terrible.  They  assembled  quietly,  and 
with  importance,  at  the  city  hall  and 
marched  through  the  principal  streets, 
and  had  speeches;  and  Eleanor  and 
Annabel  marched  side  by  side. 

And  Annabel  was  so  busy  guarding 
her  mother  from  unpleasant  experiences, 
[8s] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


and  looking  after  her  comfort,  and  pro- 
viding places  for  her  to  sit  down  when  the 
procession  stopped  a  minute,  that  she 
quite  forgot  to  have  experiences  of  her 
own  or  to  be  thrilled  or  frightened  at 
her  temerity,  or  any  of  the  exciting  things 
that  her  imagination  had  cast  before- 
hand. 

"I  call  it  a  rather  tame  performance  !" 
she  declared  at  dinner  that  night,  after 
it  was  over,  " — a  rather  tame  perform- 
ance !" 

And  Richard,  who  had  stood  on  the 
sidewalk  and  watched  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ter march  past,  with  a  little  amused 
smile,  nodded  assent. 

"You  made  a  mistake  taking  your 
mother,  perhaps.?"  he  suggested  mildly. 

Annabel  cast  a  quick  glance  at  her 
mother's  unperturbed  face,  and  her  look 
lightened. 

[86] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Mother's  a  sport!"  she  declared. 
"/  didn't  take  her!  She  took  herself  I" 

She  was  silent  a  minute.  .  .  .  Then — 
slowly:  "Fm  not  so  sure  I  shouldn't  have 
backed  out  the  last  minute,  you  know — 
if  mother  hadn't  been  so  set  on  going  V* 

She  looked  at  her  meditatively.  **You 
can't  tell  what  mother  will  do  I"  she  de- 
clared. "She  does  the  queerest  things — 
queer  for  her,  I  mean  !'* 


(87  1 


XIII 

L  HE  next  week  Annabel  became  flit- 
ting in  her  movements.  She  began  to  take 
an  interest  in  her  clothes,  and  evolved 
dainty,  distracting  gowns  that  made  her 
piquant  face  almost  beautiful.  And  she 
multiplied  new  ways  of  doing  her  hair — 
a  new  way  for  each  new  hat — till  William 
Archer  declared  she  might  as  well  be  a 
week-end  visitor. 

"Don't  you  Hke  it?"  she  demanded. 
She  turned  her  head  for  inspection.  She 
had  come  down  to  luncheon  in  a  new 
hat  that  defied  description. 

William  Archer  surveyed  it.  "Well — 
it's  different !  I  can't  say  it's  my  idea  of 
a  suffragist  hat !" 

"I'm  not  a  suffragist,"  said  Annabel 
calmly. 

[88] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"How  long  since?"  asked  William 
Archer. 

"Oh — quite  a  while." 

Eleanor  was  looking  on  with  a  little, 
amused  smile. 

"Turncoat !"  said  William  Archer. 

"I  don't  care.  .  .  .  Fd  rather  be  a  turn- 
coat than  a — frump  !" 

"You  don't  have  to  be !" 

"They  are — most  of  them — !"  said 
Annabel  viciously. 

"Why,  Annabel — !"  It  was  Eleanor's 
voice.  "Some  of  the  nicest  women  are 
suffragists.  I  saw  some  very  fine  ones  in 
the  parade." 

Annabel  turned  indignant  eyes  on 
her. 

"I  saw  one  there  !  And  I  hope  never  to 
see  her  again !"  She  said  it  severely,  and 
the  family  laughed  out. 

She  nodded  her  head  sagely  under  its 
[89] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


tilting  hat  that  came  down  well  over 
one  eye,  and  gave  her  a  young  and  mili- 
tary look — as  if  she  were  winning  her 
spurs. 

"You  may  laugh  V*  she  declared.  "It*s 
no  place  for  mother !" 

"All  right  for  you,  I  suppose?"  sug- 
gested her  father  teasingly. 

"I  told  you  rd  got  over  it,"  she  said 
firmly. 

"Like  the  measles!"  said  William 
Archer. 

She  regarded  him  thoughtfully.  "  Some- 
thing like  that — you  don't  have  it,  and 
you  feel  well — perfectly  well — and  then 
you  talk  with  some  one,  or  have  tea  or 
something,  and  you  get  all  excited  and 
uncomfortable " 

"And  break  out — "  said  William 
Archer. 

"Yes — and  see  your  mother  walking 

[90] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


in  the  middle  of  the  street — ploughing 
along!"  Her  indignant  glance  was  on 
Eleanor's  calm  face.  "I  felt  just 
ashamed!"  she  declared. 

"I  thought  mother  walked  rather 
well !"  said  Richard. 

"Yes — /  was  quite  proud  of  mother !" 
said  William  Archer. 

"Well — I  hope  it's  the  last  time  you'll 
have  a  chance  to  'be  proud  of  mother' — 
that  way  I  ...  I  never  dreamed  she 
would  do  it! —  What  made  you?"  she 
asked.  She  turned  an  accusing  look  on 
her. 

"Why — I  think  I — caught  it,  per- 
haps," said  Eleanor.  "Isn't  your  hat 
just  a  little  far  forward,  dear  ?" 

Annabel  jumped  up  and  went  to  the 
glass  and  adjusted  the  hat  with  conscien- 
tious touch.  "It  looks  so  simple!"  she 
murmured.  "But  it  really  takes  brains! — 

[91  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


There — how  is  that?"  She  turned  for 
approval,  with  serious,  intent  look. 

"Just  like  a  French  cadet !"  said  Wil- 
liam Archer.  He  had  finished  luncheon, 
and  was  standing  in  the  doorway  looking 
back. 

She  made  a  little  mouth  at  him,  and 
when  he  had  gone  she  came  and  stood  by 
her  father's  chair.  He  looked  up. 

"Where  are  you  off  to  ?"  he  asked. 

"There's  the  matinee  party  first;  and 
then  Helen's  tea — it's  her  day — and  then 
Harold  is  going  to  take  me  for  a  spin,  if 
we  get  out  in  time.  .  .  .  Good-by,  dear 
things !  I'll  see  you  at  dinner." 

She  bent  and  kissed  them,  and  all  the 
elusive  perfume  and  shining  color  and  the 
little  flitting  ends  of  ribbon  fluttered 
with  her  from  the  room, 

Richard  More  smiled  across  at  his 
wife.  "Enter  Hamlet!''  he  said. 

[92] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Yes—  It's  all  decided!"  she  added 
softly. 

He  put  down  his  cup. 

"When?" 

"Ages  ago — in  heaven,  I  suppose." 
She  smiled  a  little  wistfully. 

He  looked  relieved.  "Oh — that  kind 
of  deciding!" 


(93l 


XIV 

X  HEY  were  alone  at  dinner.  Annabel 
came  in  late  and  joined  them,  and  there 
were  only  the  three  of  them  in  the  big 
room.  It  was  very  restful — ^with  the 
shaded  light  from  the  candles;  and  there 
was  a  veiled  happiness  in  the  girl's 
smile — a  little  wistful  look  that  flitted 
through  it  when  it  rested  on  her  mother's 
face. 

Richard  More  watched  in  silence. 

"Did  you  have  a  good  time  ?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

"Fine!"  She  crumbled  her  bread  ab- 
sently. 

"What  make   of  car  is   he   running 
now?" 

"What  make—  Oh— !"  She  looked  up. 
"I  didn't  notice." 

[94] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  was  scanning  her  mother's  face — 
as  if  she  had  not  quite  seen  her  before. 

"I  saw  the  prettiest  thing  to-day, 
mother — pretty  for  you !"  She  leaned 
forward,  still  gazing  at  her.  "It  would 
just  suit  you  !  '* 

"Yes  ?"  Eleanor's  eyes  met  the  look 
behind  the  words.  "What  was  it  ?" 

"A  queer  sort  of  garment — not  a 
kimono  exactly,  and  not  a  coat — ^just  a 
garment."  She  threw  open  her  arms  with 
a  whimsical  gesture. 

Her  mother's  look  grew  veiled.  "Where 
was  it  ? — ^where  did  you  see  it  ?" 

"At  Helen's  tea.  Mrs.  Martin  had 
it.  .  .  .  She  helped  pour  and  she  had 
it  on  when  she  came  in.  She  threw  it 
off  in  the  hall — a  kind  of  regal  thing, 
you  know!"  She  made  another  gesture 
and  laughed.  "And  I  thought  in  a  flash 
oiyou!" 

[95] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Richard  More  was  looking  at  his  wife — 
her  glance  met  his. 

"  I  am  too  old  to  wear  a  thing  like  that,f* 
she  said  tranquilly.  | 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  "It  wasn't 
old,  and  it  wasn't  young.  ...  It  was 
just  like  you!"  She  said  it  softly,  half 
to  herself  under  her  breath,  and  she 
nodded  to  her  father  with  a  little  shy 
pleasure  in  the  words.  "I  kept  thinking 
all  the  time  we  were  driving — how  beauti- 
ful you  would  look  in  it." 

"What  color  was  it.?"  asked  Richard 
More. 

"A  sort  of  blue  shade — very  deep  and 
rich — and  gold  things  running  all  over 
it — a  perfectly  stunning  thing!" 

"So  you  think  your  mother  would 
look  well  in  something  like  that  ?"  he 
said  gravely. 

His  face  was  turned  to  his  wife. 

[  96  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"I  should  like  to  see  her  in  it,"  said  the 
girl  wistfully.  "I  never  thought  before 
how  beautiful  mother  is !  She's  always 
been — ^just  mother !  .  .  .  I  think  she's 
growing  pretty,"  she  added  reflectively. 
She  was  gazing  at  her  with  puzzled 
eyes. 

"Go  on — tell  about  the  coat !"  said 
Eleanor. 

"Why — that's  all !  I  only  saw  it  as 
she  threw  it  off — and  when  we  came  out, 
it  lay  there  across  a  chair  and  Harold 
said,  'What  a  stunning  thing!'  and  I 
said,  'Yes — for  mother!'"  She  laughed 
and  Eleanor  smiled  faintly. 

"And  then  what  did  he  say  ?" 

The  girl  hesitated  a  minute. 

"You  are  growing  pretty,  you  know!" 
she  replied  irrelevantly.  "And  you're 
almost  the  only  woman  I  know  that  has 
wrinkles — nice  ones  !" 

[97] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Silly  child!"  said  Eleanor.  But  her 
face  flushed  a  little. 

Annabel  nodded.  "IVe  been  puzzling 
about  it — about  faces — lots  of  those  suf- 
frage women — I  didn't  know  what  it 
was — I  couldn't  make  out !  But  that's 
it — they  haven't  any  wrinkles!"  She 
said  it  triumphantly. 

"They  do  keep  young,"  said  Richard 
More  thoughtfully. 

She  turned  on  him  almost  fiercely. 
"It  isn't  young!  It's — massage!  I've  got 
so  I  just  seem  to  hate  that  look — all 
puffed  out  and  smooth  and  softish  like 
putty.  It's  a  kind  of  chromo-face,"  she 
said  indignantly — "a  just-as-good  face, 
you  know!" 

Her  father  laughed  out. 

She  nodded  savagely.  "That's  the  way 
I  feel,  and  I  didn't  know — till  to-day." 
Her  voice  grew  gentle. 

[98] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"When  I  get  old  I'm  going  to  have 
wrinkles — Hke  mother ! " 

"There's  one  on  your  nose,  now — 
where  you're  turning  it  up,"  said  Richard. 

"I  don't  care.  .  .  .  Now  mother's 
wrinkles" —  she  leaned  forward  and 
touched  one  lightly  with  her  finger — 
"mother's  wrinkles  are — beautiful!'' 

"You  flatter  me  !"  said  Eleanor,  with  a 
little  serene  smile  mocking  the  light  in  her 
face. 

"There—!  That's  it!  Do  you  see.?" 
She  motioned  to  her  father.  "That  little 
line  that  makes  fun  of  you ! — I'm  going 
to  have  one  just  hke  that!"  She  leaned 
back  and  looked  at  the  wrinkle  with 
artistic  approval. 

Suddenly  she  jumped  up  and  came  and 
put  her  arms  around  her  mother's  neck. 

"Do  you  think  I  would  let  any  one 
massage  that  wrinkle  off  your  face — you 

[99] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


dear  old  thing,  you  !"  She  bent  and  kissed 
the  wrinkle. 

And  Eleanor  put  up  a  hand  to  the 
smooth  cheek,  close  against  her  own — 
with  the  little  flush  coming  and  going  in 
it. 

"What  did  Harold  say.?"  she  asked. 


[  loo  1 


XV 

oO  Annabel  was  engaged.  And  then, 
almost  before  they  knew  it,  Annabel 
was  married,  and  her  place  was  removed 
from  the  dining-table,  and  the  circle 
about  the  table  closed  in  a  little,  and 
Eleanor  looked  at  it  with  regretful  eyes. 

But  the  young  people  were  not  far 
off.  And  two  extra  plates  had  often  to  be 
laid  for  dinner  or  luncheon,  or  even  for 
breakfast;  so  that  the  whole  number  of 
plates  for  the  year  was  perhaps  not  much 
reduced. 

William  Archer  was  paying  attention 
to  his  neckties  and  socks,  and  growing 
fussy  about  the  cut  of  his  hair.  And  the 
younger  children  were  coming  up  with 
demands  for  a  sensible  education  that 
the  school  system  of  the  country  did  not 
supply.  And  Richard  and  Eleanor  More 
[  loi  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


still  found  life  a  rich  and  satisfying  ad- 
venture. 

Richard  sometimes  wondered  as  he 
watched  her  face  and  the  little  new  wrin- 
kles coming  to  it — ^what  life  would  have 
been  if  he  had  married  some  one  else — 
some  one  besides  Eleanor — the  Rumley 
girl,  for  instance.  ...  He  was  almost  en- 
gaged to  the  Rumley  girl,  at  one  time, 
he  remembered.  ...  He  had  blundered 
along — and  heaven  knows,  he  might  have 
married  the  Rumley  girl !  .  .  .  The 
thought  always  gave  him  a  little  fleeting 
shiver  down  his  back.  And  then  a  sense 
of  strength  and  well-being  swept  over 
him — of  the  inevitableness  of  life.  It 
could  not  have  been  any  other  way — or 
any  one  but  Eleanor !  .  .  .  She  had  said 
that  Annabel's  engagement  was  "  decided 
in  heaven."  .  .  .  That  was  it ! 

People  might  laugh — and,  of  course,  it 
[  I02  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


was  a  kind  of  fatalism — but  things  like 
that  had  to  be.  .  .  .  The  sun  had  to  rise 
in  the  East  to-morrow  morning — that 
was  not  fatalism ! 

There  was  one  regret  that  followed 
him — though  he  never  mentioned  it,  and 
he  seldom  thought  of  it,  consciously. 
.  .  .  Sometimes  a  look  in  Eleanor's  face 
would  bring  it  back — and  he  would  won- 
der why  he  should  mind  so  much — that 
he  had  not  been  able  to  get  the  coat  for 
her — the  Chinese  coat  they  had  seen  at 
Stewart's  that  day.  ...  It  was  not  such 
a  wonderful  garment,  after  all — ^was  it  ? 
.  .  .  He  had  given  her  more  expensive 
things  than  that — more  beautiful  things 
— had  he  ?  .  .  .  And  then  he  would  see 
her  face  as  she  stood  for  a  moment 
wrapped  in  its  folds  and  looking  down. 

The  day  Annabel  mentioned  the  coat 
she  had  seen  at  the  tea  he  had  been 
[  103  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


deeply  startled.  And  he  wanted  to  speak 
to  Eleanor  about  it  afterward.  But  some- 
thing held  him.  Perhaps  she  had  forgotten 
.  .  .  perhaps  she  did  not  care — so  much 
as  he  fancied. 

Once,  when  they  were  going  to  the 
opera,  he  turned  in  the  limousine  and 
caught  a  flitting  smile  on  her  lips  as 
they  flashed  by  a  light  and  he  asked  her 
what  she  was  thinking  about.  She  laughed 
out. 

"The  Chinese  coat,  dear.  ...  I  could 
have  worn  it  to-night." 

He  could  not  have  told  whether  there 
were  tears  in  her  voice.  He  only  thought 
as  she  stepped  from  the  car  and  walked 
beside  him  into  the  lobby  that  he  had 
never  seen  her  so  beautiful;  and  he  had 
had  the  happy  sense  of  people  turning 
their  heads  to  look  at  her — stare  a  lit- 
tle. .  .  . 

[  104  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


There  was  a  kind  of  radiance  about 
Eleanor  sometimes.  .  ,  .  He  had  given 
her  everything  in  the  world — except  the 
Chinese  coat. 

And  the  little  regret  never  left  him. 

Later  it  came  to  him  that  Stewart 
might,  after  all,  have  got  the  coat  for 
him — and  simply  be  waiting  for  him  to 
call. 


[  losl 


XVI 

JriE  went  to  Stewart's  that  afternoon. 
The  store  had  been  enlarged  and  greatly 
changed.  He  had  not  seen  it  for  years — 
hardly  since  the  day  when  he  arranged, 
or  thought  he  arranged,  that  they  were 
to  "send  him  word."  .  .  .  Perhaps  he  had 
misunderstood.  How  foolish  he  had  been 
not  to  inquire  before.  .  .  .  Regretting  it 
all  these  years — and  never  asking — ^when 
perhaps  he  had  only  to  walk  in  and  say 
casually:  "You  don't  happen  to  have  a 
coat — a  Chinese  coat — that  I  left  an 
order  for — blue  and  gold,  I  think  it  was 
— ^with  dragons  on  it  ? " 

But  when  he  asked  the  casual  question, 
the  girl  at  the  counter  only  shook  her 
head.  She  was  indifferent. 

"Was  it  this  week?"  she  asked.  "IVe 
only  been  here  a  week." 
[io6] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"No — ^it  was  .  .  .  some  time  ago,"  said 
Richard  More. 

"Perhaps  they  will  know  in  the  buy- 
ing department.  I  will  ask." 

She  was  gone  a  long  time.  And  Richard 
More  looked  about  him.  He  would  not 
have  known  it  for  the  same  place — a  great 
skylight  had  been  put  in  and  the  floors 
cut  out  from  roof  to  basement,  letting 
down  a  flood  of  light.  And  the  stairs  and 
elevators  were  changed — they  used  to  be 
over  there  to  the  left.  ...  It  must 
have  been  just  about  here  that  she  stood 
when  she  tried  on  the  coat.  He  half-closed 
his  eyes  and  saw  her  there — and  all  the 
hope  and  freshness  came  back  to  him — 
and  the  look  in  her  face. 

The  girl  returned,  efficient  and  in- 
different. "They  have  not  had  an  order. 
I  can  take  it  again."  She  reached  for 
her  pad. 

[  107  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Richard  More  looked  at  it  distrust- 
fully. 

"I  think  I  will  see  Mr.  Stewart  him- 
self," he  said  slowly.  He  half-started  to 
take  a  card  from  his  pocket.  Then  he 
changed  th^  gesture.  He  was  suddenly 
thinking  of  the  gold  coins  he  had  carried 
there.  .  .  . 

"Tell  Mr.  Stewart,  please,  that  the 
gentleman  who  left  an  order  for  a  Chi- 
nese coat — several  years  ago — ^would  like 
to  speak  with  him  about  it." 

There  was  another  long  wait — then 
a  boy  with  buttons  and  a  little  proud 
air  escorted  him  to  the  top  of  the  building. 

"Mr.  Stewart  don't  see  many  folks,"  he 
volunteered,  as  they  approached  a  door. 

"Doesn't  he  .?    Then  I  am  fortunate." 

The  boy  nodded  gravely  and  rapped. 


[  io8  ] 


T] 


XVII 


HE  gray-haired  man  at  the  desk 
looked  up  with  a  sharp  Hne  between  the 
bushy  eyebrows.  He  stared  a  moment 
and  got  up. 

"Is  it  you!"  He  held  out  a  cordial 
hand. 

He  served  on  a  dozen  boards  with 
Robert  More — and  was  proud  of  it. 

"I  never  supposed  you  were  interested 
in  the  Chinese  coat!"  He  touched  a 
paper  on  the  desk. 

"Sit  down.  They  said  the  man  who 
left  the  order  was  here — and  I  happened 
to  have  kept  the  name,  'Richard  More.' 
But  it  never  occurred  to  me  it  was  you!" 
He  was  still  standing  and  staring  at 
him  as  if  he  could  not  quite  believe  his 
eyes. 

I  did  not  expect  you  to  remember 
[  109  ] 


«- 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


the    order,"    said    Richard.    "I    merely 
sent  up  word — on  the  chance." 

The  other  nodded.  "Oh,  yes.  I  remem- 
ber it  quite  well.  ...  You  see  I  took 
personal  interest  in  the  coat.  I  never 
really  meant  to  sell  it.  .  .  .  It  was  a 
curious  garment.  ..." 

The  two  men  of  business  sat  silent — 
as  if  seeing  it  before  them. 

It  was  Stewart  who  roused  himself 
first.  "I  came  on  it  in  a  town — a  little 
back  in  the  interior.  I  was  there  on  other 
business,  semi-confidential  business  for 
the  government — and  I  saw  this  coat 
and  liked  it,  and  bought  it.  ...  I  think 
I  had  a  half-idea  of  giving  it  to  my 
wife."  He  smiled  a  little  absently. 
--"I  did  not  know  you  were  married," 
said  Richard  More  politely.  He  really 
knew  very  little  about  the  man.  It  did 
not  interest  him — except  for  politeness. 

[   HO  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Stewart  looked  at  him  keenly  a  minute. 
"I  am  not  married,"  he  said.  "I  never 
have  been.  .  .  .  If  I  had  married  I  should 
not  have  let  the  Chinese  coat  go."  He 
spoke  with  a  certain  curious  emphasis 
and  Richard  glanced  at  him. 

He  nodded.  "I  should  have  kept  it — 
for  her,"  he  said.  "I  knew  enough  for 
that !  ...  It  gives  me  a  queer  kind  of 
feeling  to  know  that  you  were  interested 
in  it  too.  I  somehow  should  not  have 
suspected  it  of  you."  He  looked  at  him 
thoughtfully. 

"My  wife  liked  it,"  said  Richard 
stiffly.  "I  wanted  it  for  her." 

"Yes — a  woman  would  like  it.  ...  I 
remember  the  woman  that  had  charge 
of  the  department — she's  been  dead  a 
number  of  years,  now — I  remember  she 
always  liked  it.  She  would  keep  it  in  a 
box — half  the  time.  Wouldn't  have  it  out 
[  III  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


where  people  could  see  it — seemed  to  be 
afraid  somebody  would  buy  it  I"  He 
chuckled.  "If  Vd  really  wanted  to  sell 
that  coat  I  should  have  been  pretty  sharp 
with  her."  ...  He  roused  himself.  "Well, 
she's  dead !" 

"You  didn't  find  another  one,  I  sup- 
pose.?" said  Richard  politely. 

"No — not  exactly."  He  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  recall  something. 

"There  was  one — I  got  word  of  one. 
.  .  .  But  it  was  far  in  the  interior — 
farther  in  than  Vd  ever  gone,  or  had 
time  to  go.  I  left  word  in  a  general  way 
for  them  to  negotiate  for  it.  .  .  .  But 
they're  slow — the  Chinese.  .  .  .  Ever  been 
there?" 

Richard  shook  his  head-7a  sudden  in- 
tention came  to  him. 

"Well,  it's  a  wonderful  country!" 
said  Stewart.   "And  they're  a  wonder- 

[    "2] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ful  people.  But  different — different  from 
us.  .  .  .  That's  where  folks  have  always 
made  a  mistake.  They  think  because  the 
Chinese  have  heads  and  legs,  and  wear 
clothes,  they  are  like  us.  .  .  .  But  they 
are  no  more  like  us  than — than  trees  are 
like — lions.  .  .  .  They're  both  of  'em 
alive,  and  that's  about  all  you  can  say — " 
He  broke  off  with  a  laugh. 

Richard  smiled.  "You  know  them 
pretty  well,  do  you  V* 

"I've  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  there. 
.  .  .  But  I  don't  know  them.  Nobody 
knows  'em !"  He  spoke  with  quiet  convic- 
tion and  something  that  arrested  Rich- 
ard's attention. 

"I've  sometimes  thought  I  should  like 
to  go  there."  .  .  .  He  had  thought  it  not 
two  minutes  ago  for  the  first  time — but 
it  seemed  to  him  now  that  he  had  always 
intended  to  go — that  it  was  something 
I  "3  I 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


he  had  been  moving  toward  all  his 
life. 

The  other  nodded.  "You  won't  regret 
it.  I  mean  to  go  back  myself,  some  time." 

They  parted  with  a  kind  of  friendliness 
they  would  not  have  expected  from  their 
previous  knowledge  of  each  other.  Rich- 
ard had  in  his  pocket  such  directions  as 
the  man  could  give  him. 

"I  can't  tell  you  precisely  where  the 
place  is,  nor  how  to  get  to  it.  I  never 
knew,  myself.  .  .  .  And  it's  a  country 
you  have  to  find  your  own  way  in.  Go 
slow  and  trust  'em.  Don't  hurry  them 
too  much.  ...  I  wouldn't  be  surprised 
if  you'd  find  the  coat — if  there  really 
was  one,  like  the  one  we  knew — I  wouldn't 
be  surprised  if  you'd  find  it  just  where  it 
was  twenty  years  ago  when  they  told  me 
about  it.  They're  a  slow-moving  people  I 
But  they've  found  out  some  things  .  .  . 

[  "4  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


some  things  we  don't  know  yet.  ...  In 
a  sense  theyVe  forgotten  more  than  we 
ever  knew,"  he  added  with  a  smile. 

"Here,  wait  a  minute !"  He  went  to  a 
cabinet  across  the  room  and  took  from  a 
pigeonhole  a  yellow  and  discolored  map. 
He  brought  it  to  the  table  and  spread  it 
out. 

"Here  is  the  region  I  spoke  of — up 
here.  .  .  .  And  these  red  lines  show 
where  I  have  been  myself;  and  the  little 
blue  crosses  are  places  where  I  got  in- 
formation— the  right  sort — ^where  people 
are  friendly  and  intelligent  .  .  .  they  will 
not  have  changed  much — "  He  looked  at 
the  map  thoughtfully  and  took  it  up  and 
folded  it  in  slow  fingers. 

"I  am  going  to  give  you  this.  It  may 
be  useful  to  you,  and  I  may  not  go  my- 
self— I  am  an  old  man  now." 

So  Richard  More  took  the  map  and 

[115] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


went  out.  He  had  come  expecting  to 
make  a  business  inquiry,  in  a  business- 
like way;  and  he  had  encountered  some- 
thing that  was  not  business — something 
that  the  piece  of  worn  and  discolored 
paper  seemed  vaguely  to  whisper  as  it 
rustled  in  his  pocket. 


[  ii6] 


XVIII 

X  HE  next  day  he  brought  the  run- 
about to  the  door  and  honked  once — and 
waited. 

Eleanor  coming  down  the  path  stopped 
— and  glanced  at  the  car.  She  quickened 
her  steps,  a  look  of  happy  surprise  in 
her  face. 

"You  are  going  to  drive  yourself!" 

"Trust  me — can't  you  V*  said  Richard. 

She  got  in  with  a  sigh  of  content. 
"There  are  always  people!"  she  said, 
"and  people  and  people! — till  you  can't 
think!"  She  threw  out  her  hands  in  a 
whimsical  gesture. 

"Well — you  can  think  now!  .  .  .  No 
one  to  hinder!" 

They  took  the  road  to  the  open  coun- 
try. And  she  rested  back  beside  him.  He 
[  "7] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


could  feel  her  quiet  contentment — though 
she  did  not  speak — not  even  when  they 
left  the  open  highway  and  travelled  a 
rougher  road  that  skirted  the  hills  and 
came  at  last  to  the  end  of  a  grass-grown 
cart-path  half-way  up  the  hill.  He  turned 
the  nose  of  the  car  a  little  one  side. 

"As  far  as  we  go,"  he  said  quietly. 

She  got  out  with  a  smile.  "Farther 
than  last  time — isn't  it?"  She  looked 
about  her  happily. 

"You  remember  then  ?"  he  said.  He 
came  and  stood  beside  her. 

"Did  you  think  I  could  forget?" 

"It  has  been  a  long  time " 

"Only  a  minute,"  she  replied  gayly. 
"Come — are  we  going  up  ?" 

"I    wonder — ?"    He    looked    a    little 
doubtfully  at  the  hill  before  them — and 
there  was  a  hill  beyond  that,  he  knew, 
and  another  beyond  that. 
[  ii8] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"It's  more  of  a  climb  than  I  remem- 
bered," he  said  thoughtfully. 

But  she  was  already  going  on  ahead  of 
him,  pushing  aside  the  underbrush  and 
walking  with  light  step.  .  .  .  The  birch 
stems  came  between  them  and  he  saw 
her  hazily,  always  a  little  ahead,  ascend- 
ing the  hill.  .  .  .  Then  her  pace  slowed 
and  he  hurried  and  overtook  her. 

He  looked  at  her  sternly.  "Sit  down !" 
he  said. 

He  spread  his  coat  and  she  sat  down  on 
it  almost  meekly.  She  was  breathing  fast. 
There  was  a  little  flush  of  color  in  her  face. 

She  looked  about  her  with  happy  eyes. 
"Oh — I  am  glad  you  thought  of  it !" 

"You  have  no  sense!"  said  Richard 
shortly. 

"Sense—?  .  .  .Oh!" 

"To  hurry  like  that ! —  We  have  the 
day  before  us!" 

[119] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"Have  we?"  She  looked  about  with  a 
little  puzzled  vagueness.  "I  think  I  must 
have  been  hurrying — to  get  back  to  set 
the  table  for  dinner!"  She  was  laughing 
at  him.  "It  felt  like  being  a  girl!"  she 
said. 

"/  shall  go  ahead  after  this,"  responded 
Richard.  "Tm  not  going  to  have  you 
fainting  away  or  twisting  an  ankle,  or 
any  other  silly  thing  1" 

"Nonsense!" 

But  when  they  started  again  he  led 
the  way;  and  they  stopped  at  judicious 
intervals — to  look  at  the  view  and  talk 
of  scenery — and  Richard  kept  a  careful 
eye  on  the  face  with  its  flitting  color,  and 
on  her  quickened  breath.  She  leaned  a 
little  against  him  the  last  part  of  the  way. 
Then  they  came  out  on  the  open  bluff, 
with  the  country  lying  before  them. 

She  stood  gazing  down  at  it  with  shin- 
[  I20  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ing  eyes.  "Nothing  has  changed!"  she 
cried  after  a  minute. 

"Not  from  up  here,"  said  Richard. 
"Sit  down." 

He  made  a  place  for  her  by  a  birch- 
tree  and  she  leaned  back  against  it  and 
they  looked  out  in  silence  over  the  wide 
country. 

Presently  he  turned  and  looked  at  her. 
She  had  fallen  asleep.  Her  head  rested 
against  the  birch-tree  and  her  face  wore  a 
soft  flush  in  sleep.  .  .  *  Now  that  it  was 
quiet  and  the  smile  was  gone,  he  could 
see  that  it  was  very  tired.  A  quick  desire 
seized  him — to  keep  the  face — to  stay 
the  change  in  it.  A  woman  should  not 
grow  old  I  .  .  .  And  then  as  he  looked  at 
her,  he  saw  that  she  was  more  beautiful 
than  she  had  ever  been. 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  smiled  to 
him  hazily.  "Twenty-five  years!"  she 
[  121  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


murmured  sleepily,  and  the  eyes  closed. 
He  moved  a  little  nearer  to  her  till  her 
head  rested  against  him  and  she  slept  on. 

When  she  opened  her  eyes,  the  light 
had  changed.  She  sat  up  with  a  swift 
look. 

"How  stupid  in  me — to  go  to  sleep! 
.  .  .  But  how  wonderful  it  is!"  She  was 
gazing  at  the  darkened  light  that  spread 
like  a  veil  over  the  country  below.  The 
grass  and  trees  were  misty  in  it — only  a 
winding  river  caught  a  touch  of  glam- 
our from  an  unseen  source  and  glowed 
through  the  dusk.  The  darkness  grew 
and  deepened  on  the  plain,  and  the  sides 
of  the  hill  were  blurred  in  it — shadowy 
shapes  crept  up. 

"We  must  go,"  said  Richard.  "The 
days  are  short." 

Yes" —  she  breathed  a  little  sigh — 
yes — we  must  go."  She  got  up. 
[  122  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


But  he  stayed  her  and  she  stood  ar- 
rested, looking  down  at  him. 

"There — was  something — I  wanted  to 
tell  you,"  he  said. 

She  glanced  at  the  plain — ^with  the 
little  gleaming  river  shining  in  it.  "It  is 
late !"  she  said. 

"I  brought  my  bug-light."  He  touched 
his  pocket.  "Sit  down." 

So  she  sat  down  beside  him  and  he  told 
her  of  the  map  in  his  pocket.  He  took  it 
out  and  spread  it  before  her.  And  she 
leaned  toward  it  in  the  dim  light — study- 
ing the  discolored  lines  as  he  explained 
them  to  her. 

"Do  you  want — to  go — so  much?" 
she  asked,  looking  up  at  last. 

"If  you  want  to —  Yes." 

She  was  silent  a  minute. 

"Martin  thinks  he  is  going  to  be  an 
engineer,"  she  said  irrelevantly. 
[  123  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  spurned  it.  "Martin  has  sense — he 
doesn't  need  his  mother— to  have  sense 
for  him!" 

"But  an  engineer!"  she  said. 

"They  will  lead  the  world  to-morrow," 
he  responded. 

"Oh—!"  It  was  a  little  sigh  of  sur- 
prise and  relief. 

"I  didn't  know  engineers  were  any- 
thing important !"  she  added  after  a  min- 
ute. Then  she  laughed  out. 

The  darkness  gathered  closer — coming 
up  from  the  plain — and  the  little  river 
was  only  a  gleam  through  its  veil  of  haze. 

She  looked  down  on  it. 

"Very  well,"  she  said.  "We  will  go. 
I  am  ready  to  go.  .  .  .  Perhaps  it  will 


rest  me  to  go. 


[  124  ] 


XIX 

HE  whole  family  was  at  the  station 
to  see  them  off.  Annabel  had  provided 
luncheon  and  a  tea-basket  and  little  pil- 
lows and  waxed  paper  and  drinking-cups, 
and  she  flitted  about  her  mother  with 
watchful  eyes.  There  was  a  kind  of  jeal- 
ous loyalty  in  her,  as  if  she  would  hold 
her  mother  by  main  force  from  this  fool- 
ish thing  she  had  entered  upon.  .  .  .  She 
went  with  them  into  the  car  and  settled 
the  little  pillow  in  place  and  stood  with 
her  hand  on  her  mother's  shoulder.  .  .  . 
Outside,  through  the  window,  she  could 
see  the  others  laughing  and  talking. 

Her  mother  lifted  her  face  quickly. 
"You  will  be  carried  off  I"  she  said  hur- 
riedly. 

The  younger  woman  smiled  down  at 
her — and  her  face  broke  in  little,  help- 

[12S] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


less  lines.  She  bent  and  kissed  her  almost 
fiercely.  "You  take  care  of  yourself! 
^  .  .  If  anything  happened  to  you — !'* 
And  she  was  gone. 

Outside,  the  group  moved  and  laughed 
and  waved  inane  farewells.  Annabel  joined 
it  wiping  her  eyes.  She  waved  her  hand- 
kerchief at  the  receding  window  and 
dabbed  it  swiftly  across  her  eyes. 

The  red  light  at  the  end  of  the  rear  car 
receded  into  a  dark  tunnel. 

Annabel  caught  her  breath.  "I  don't 
see  why  we  let  her  do  it !"  she  said  help- 
lessly. 

"You  couldn't  stop  mother!"  It  was 
William  Archer.  He  tucked  her  hand  pro- 
tectingly  in  his  arm.  "She'll  be  all  right !" 
he  said  reassuringly. 

Annabel  shook  her  head.  They  had 
turned  away  from  the  blackness  of  the 
tunnel  and  were  walking  toward  the  sta- 

[  126] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


tion.  The  others  had  scattered  a  Httle, 
and  gone  on  ahead.  Annabel's  eyes  fol- 
lowed them. 

"She  isn't  fit  to  do  it!"  she  said.  .  .  . 
"She's  Hke  a  child.  I  feel  as  if  I 
couldn't — !"  Her  lip  trembled,  and  she 
broke  off. 

William  Archer  smiled  down  at  her. 
"Mother's  all  right !  She  brought  us  up — 
five  of  us.  And  she's  pretty  near  brought 
father  up — and  I  guess  a  few  Chinamen 
won't  frighten  her !" 

Annabel  looked  at  him  absently. 

"I  didn't  tell  her  where  I  put  the  extra 
flannels — for  the  steamer.  They  say  it's 
cold — sometimes !" 

"Telegraph!"  replied  William  Archer 
promptly.  "Want  me  to  go  home  with 
you?" 

They  stood  at  the  corner  of  the  street. 
Annabel  shook  her  head.  "Of  course  not ! 
[  127  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Don't   be   silly!  ...   I   shall   telegraph 
to-night — a  night-letter." 

"Whereto?" 

She  looked  at  him  helplessly.  "I  don't 
know.  .  .  .  And  she's  always  been  so 
fixed  before  I  Wherever  I  went,  I  seemed 
always  just  kind  of  circling  around  mother 
and  coming  back  to  her.  And  now  she's 
off  like  that — ^whirling  into  space!"  She 
made  a  sweeping  gesture  of  her  hands 
and  looked  up  to  him  appealingly. 

The  little  laugh  left  William  Archer's 
face.  "There's  no  one  in  the  world,  of 
course,  like  mother.  .  .  .  Never  has  been 
— for  me.  ...  I  suppose  all  men  feel 
that  way — about  their  mothers."  He 
said  it  slowly  and  looked  at  her  inquir- 
ingly. "But  it  seems  somehow  as  if  she 
were  somebody  in  particular — and  no- 
body else  could  know — how  we  feel 
about  her." 

[  128] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"They  can't — and  they  don't !"  said 
Annabel  grimly. 

They  stood  looking  at  each  other  with 
quiet  understanding.  They  had  not  felt  so 
near  together  in  years,  not  since  they 
played  in  the  branches  of  the  oak-tree, 
and  William  Archer  had  called  down 
to  her  from  the  topmost  branch:  "Come 
on  up !" 

She  nodded  to  him  with  a  little  smile 
of  remembrance  and  affection,  and  they 
turned  and  went  their  separate  ways. 


[  129  ] 


XX 

X^  ROM  the  window  of  the  train  Eleanor 
More  looked  out  on  green  fields.  They 
had  emerged  from  the  dark  mouth  of  the 
tunnel  into  a  spring  day.  The  evening 
light  was  on  the  fields,  and  they  stretched 
away  to  distant  woods.  The  shadows 
along  the  ground  caught  a  glow  from  the 
sky. 

"Looks  like  a  clear  day  to-morrow," 
said  Richard. 

She  nodded  quietly.  Her  eyes  were  on 
the  level  green  fields  that  moved  past 
them,  mile  after  mile. 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  covered  hers 
where  it  lay  on  the  seat  between  them. 

"Tired.?"  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head.  Then  she  drew  a 
long  breath  and  looked  at  him  with  a 
smile. 

[  130  1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"How  good  it  seems  !"  she  said  slowly. 
"How  good  it  seems — to  get  away  from 
them  all!" 

"We  are  beginning  all  over,"  he  re- 
sponded. 

"Yes.  ...  I  can't  seem  to  worry 
about  what's  happening  to  them.  .  .  . 
Just  a  little  worry — because  I  don't 
worry — that's  all!" 

"You'll  get  over  that  in  a  mile  or  so," 
he  replied  confidently. 

It  would  seem  she  did  get  over  it — 
or  at  least  if  she  did  not,  she  concealed 
it  skilfully.  The  little  lines  in  her  face 
smoothed,  one  by  one,  and  a  tranquil 
look  came  to  it. 

She  sat  for  hours  as  the  train  moved 
over  the  level  plain,  the  look  of  abstrac- 
tion in  her  eyes  and  the  gentleness  and 
strength  in  her  face  revealing  themselves 
— as  the  lines  of  a  landscape  are  some- 

[  131  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


times  revealed  by  a  change  of  light  or  by 
the  passing  of  a  storm — all  the  surface 
life  slipped  from  it. 

And  Richard  More,  watching,  had  a 
sudden  sense  of  the  mysterious  force  of 
very  familiar  things.  .  .  .  This  was  Elea- 
nor's face — that  he  had  known  and  loved 
for  years;  and  it  was  the  face  of  a  strange 
woman,  an  unknown  majestic  presence 
who  moved  beside  him  always. 

And  then  the  mask  of  greatness  would 
slip  from  her,  and  she  would  chatter  for 
days  about  nothing,  trivial  things — de- 
lighting like  a  child  in  the  discoveries 
he  brought  and  laid  in  her  lap  when 
he  alighted  at  some  lonely  station — a 
flower  or  a  bit  of  mineral;  and  the  train 
would  plunge  on  again,  dipping  around 
the  curve  of  a  hill,  climbing  along  a  dizzy 
cliff,  while  she  sat  beside  him,  her  hand 
a  little  reached  out  to  him,  her  breath 
half  stayed  by  a  glance  of  delight. 
[  132  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"It  is  a  voyage  of  discovery/*  he  said 
in  her  ear. 

"How  foolish — to  want  to  stay  in  one 
place — always !"  Her  hand  swept  up  to 
the  piling  masses  of  snow,  glacial  vast- 
nesses  that  gleamed  high  above  them. 
"How  foolish  V*  she  said  softly. 

And  the  strange  look  of  dignity  and 
strength  came  swiftly  into  her  face. 

"A  voyage  of  discovery,"  he  repeated. 
.  .  .  "Do  you  think  we  shall  find  it  .?** 

She  looked  at  him  with  puzzled  eyes. 

"Find — ?"  she  said  vaguely. 

"The  Chinese  coat?" 

"Oh—!"  she  laughed  out.  "Perhaps 
so.  It  doesn't  matter — does  it?"  She 
nodded  toward  the  distant  peaks  of  snow 
— a  faint  tinge  of  pink  was  beginning  to 
rest  on  them.  .  .  .  "It  does  not  matter !" 
she  said  softly. 

"No — it  does  not  matter.  .  .  .  But  I 
should  like  to  find  it — for  you." 
[  133  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


When  she  looked  at  him  her  eyes  were 
full  of  tears. 

"Foolish  boy!"  she  said,  "to  care — for 
that!"  / 

"We  will  go  back — if  you  say  so,"  he 
responded.  He  was  watching  her  closely. 

She  reached  out  a  quick  hand. 

"No — Oh,  no!  We  must  go  on!'*  she 
cried  under  her  breath. 

He  laughed  out.  "I  thought  so!  You 
care  for  it — as  much  as  I  do.  .  .  .  Only 
you " 

"I  want  to  go  on,"  she  said  swiftly. 
"What  would  the  children  say — if  we 
should  come  back  now  ?" 

"They  would  be  a  little  surprised — 
to  see  us  walk  in,"  he  admitted. 

"Very  well,  madam — to  please  you, 
we  will  go  on." 

They  talked  in  any  foolish  way  that 
pleased  them,  and  they  did  not  hurry 
on  the  journey. 

[134] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  had  a  time-table  of  the  dates  of 
sailing  of  the  Japanese  line  they  were  to 
travel  by,  and  a  stateroom  engaged  on 
each  boat  sailing  for  the  next  month. 

One  after  one  he  relinquished  them,  by 
telegraph,  as  the  days  slipped  by. 

They  stopped  off  for  two  weeks  at  a 
high  mountain  inn  that  they  liked;  and 
several  times  they  rested  for  days  in 
some  spot  that  pleased  her  fancy. 

He  watched  her  face.  When  it  grew 
fatigued,  he  gave  directions  to  the  Jap- 
anese courier  who  had  joined  them  at 
a  point  on  the  journey,  and  they  left 
the  train  at  the  next  station. 

The  courier  came  and  went  like  a 
shadow  along  the  route — sometimes  ahead 
of  them  and  sometimes  following,  but 
always  at  hand  when  he  was  needed. 

Eleanor  grew  to  watch  for  his  face 
as  if  he  were  a  kind  of  meteor  that 
played  a  game  with  them. 

[  135  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"There  he  is !"  she  would  exclaim  at 
some  station  as  she  looked  out  and  caught 
a  glimpse  of  him.  "There  he  is,  Richard  !" 

And  if  the  train  went  on  without  him, 
she  would  press  her  face  to  the  glass  and 
lean  forward  to  watch  till  he  was  out  of 
sight. 

"What  a  wonderful  people !"  she  said. 
"When  I  see  him  I  seem  to  understand — 
almost !  And  then  he  is  gone  !  Is  he  going 
with  us — all  the  way  ?" 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Richard.  "I  had 
arranged  with  him  only  to  San  Fran- 
cisco. But  we  can  keep  him  on  if  you 
like.  .  .  .  There  will  be  plenty  like  him 
on  the  boat.  They  are  all  Japs  on  the 
boat." 


[136] 


Oi 


XXI 


'N  the  steamer  they  were,  as  Richard 
had  predicted,  all  Japanese.  Not  only  the 
crew  and  attendants,  but  many  of  the  pas- 
sengers showed  the  dark  skin  and  straight 
hair  of  the  race  to  the  west.  There  were 
Chinese,  too,  and  strange  foreign  faces 
that  Richard  More  did  not  know.  A  few 
Americans  were  on  board — bound  on 
business  or  pleasure  to  China  and  Japan 
— but  the  majority  of  the  passengers  were 
of  alien  race. 

Richard  More  and  his  wife  sat  day 
after  day  in  their  steamer-chairs,  looking 
out  to  sea  and  watching  the  strange  faces 
drift  between  them  and  the  horizon  line. 
.  .  .  They  came  and  went,  dreamlike 
and  vague.  .  .  .  Now  a  face  would  sil- 
houette itself  on  the  sky,  turbaned  and 
dark  and  motionless  against  the  approach- 
[  137  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ing  west;  and  now  gesticulating  hands 
moved  swiftly,  and  sharp  staccatoed 
words  flitted  by  them  along  the  deck. 
They  were  in  a  foreign  world,  a  cos- 
mopolite world  —  a  restless,  moving 
strangeness  of  life.  ...  It  was  not  possi- 
ble not  to  feel,  deep  underneath,  the  com- 
mon tie  of  race  or  nation  that  made 
them  one.  .  . .  Only  a  boat  moving  to  the 
west — and  the  faces  moving  with  it. 

The  courier  left  them  at  the  dock  at 
San  Francisco.  Eleanor  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  face  among  the  crowd  as  the  boat 
moved  out. 

"There  he  is !"  she  cried  to  Richard, 
her  hand  on  his  arm  and  her  eyes  search- 
ing the  dock.  Then  the  crowd  jostled — • 
and  the  face  was  gone.  There  were  many 
dark  faces  along  the  dock's  edge,  watch- 
ing the  boat  recede,  and  she  could  not  see 
that  one  was  more  familiar  than  another. 

[138] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  had  come  to  fancy  on  the  journey- 
that  she  knew  the  courier  a  little;  but 
now  she  saw  that  she  had  known  only 
his  strangeness;  there  were  dozens  like 
him,  and  he  was  merged  in  the  deeper 
aHenism  of  his  race. 

He  was  replaced  by  a  Chinese  inter- 
preter who  was  to  act  as  guide  for  the  rest 
of  the  journey.  Richard  More,  search- 
ing for  a  courier  who  was  familiar  with 
the  languages  and  dialects  of  the  differ- 
ent provinces  of  China,  had  come  upon 
Kou  Ying,  who  was  contemplating  a 
journey  home.  For  a  consideration,  he 
was  willing  to  go  with  them  into  the 
interior  and  to  remain  with  them  as  long 
as  they  wished. 

Eleanor  had  seen  him  only  at  a  dis- 
tance, leaning  against  the  rail  and  look- 
ing out  to  sea,  or  rolling  a  cigarette 
with  slow  lingering  touch  in  his  yellow 
[  139  1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


hands  extending  from  the  wide,  silken 
sleeves. 

She  fancied,  once  or  twice,  that  a 
glance  from  the  oblique  eyes  rested  on 
her  with  slow  intentness.  But  when  she 
looked  again  she  saw  that  the  glance 
was  vacant  of  meaning  and  that  it  slipped 
past  her  and  gazed  out  along  the  pathless 
sea  to  the  west. 

"I  cannot  make  him  out !"  she  said 
to  Richard. 

"Don't  you  like  him?"  he  demanded. 
"We  will  exchange  him  at  Shanghai. 
There  are  always  plenty  to  be  had,  I 
understand.  But  I  thought  the  man 
seemed  intelligent — and  the  boat  gives 
us  a  little  chance  to  get  acquainted." 

He  looked  at  her  keenly.  "We  don't 
need  to  keep  him,  you  know." 

She  wrinkled  her  eyes  in  a  little  per- 
plexity, gazing  at  the  figure  that  stood 
[  140  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


well  to  the  front  of  the  boat.  .  .  .  His 
back  was  turned  to  them  and  the  wind 
blowing  against  the  boat  filled  the  blue 
coat  and  trousers  like  little  balloons. 
One  could  fancy  the  thin  yellow  legs  in- 
side the  balloons,  holding  like  grim  little 
steel  pipes  to  the  deck.  There  was  a  wiry 
strength  in  the  man  and  a  kind  of  grip- 
ping forcefulness  that  went  oddly  with  the 
placid  face  and  slow  figure. 

"I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  she  said 
slowly.  "I  do  not  dislike  him.  But  he 
makes  me  feel  as  if  the  world  were  queer 
— a  little  topsyturvy,  I  think — almost  as 
if  I  saw  a  pine-tree  lift  its  roots  out  of  the 
ground  and  go  skipping  along  the  grass  !" 
Her  husband  laughed  out.  "Kou  Ying 
doesn't  skip  much !" 

"No.  ...  His  soul  skips  !" 
"All  the  better  for  us,  isn't  it  ?*' 
"Perhaps — "  Her  eyes  brooded  on  the 

[  141  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ballooning  little  figure,  anchored  to  the 
deck. 

"No —  Don't  send  him  away!"  She 
shook  her  head  with  decision. 

"Well,  Fm  glad  you  like  him.  I  fancy 
he's  going  to  be  pretty  useful  to  us  later 
on. 

He  got  up  and  strolled  over  to  the 
man,  and  Eleanor  More  watched  the 
two  figures  side  by  side — the  tall,  well- 
built  American  and  the  thin  little  figure 
of  steel  in  its  swelling,  puffed-out  gar- 
ments. 

Presently  they  moved  along  the  deck 
and  passed  out  of  sight.  When  they  re- 
appeared, at  the  other  end  of  the  boat, 
Eleanor  was  lying  half-asleep,  her  eyes 
closed  and  her  face  very  quiet. 

She  opened  her  eyes,  as  they  came  up. 

The  oblique  gaze  was  looking  down 
on  her  out  of  an  impassive  face.  She 
[  142  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


smiled  dreamily.  .  .  .  Now  she  under- 
stood. The  man  was  journeying  too. 

"This  is  Kou  Ying/*  said  Richard  casu- 
ally. 

The  Oriental  made  a  gesture  of  ser- 
vice .  .  .  and  the  pine-tree  danced  hazily 
before  Eleanor's  eyes.  She  smiled  a  little. 

"You  are  going  with  us  ?"  she  asked. 

The  stolid  face  had  not  changed.  But 
something,  far  back  in  the  eyes,  responded 
to  the  smile. 

"As  long  as  you  need  me,  madam," 
said  the  man  courteously. 

"We  are  looking  for  a  coat,"  said 
Richard. 

"Hadn't  you  told  him?"  asked  Elea- 
nor, a  little  astonished.  She  sat  up  in  her 
chair. 

"No.  I  waited — to  be  sure." 

The  Chinese  eyes  regarded  him,  in- 
curious and  quiet. 

[  143  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"We  saw  a  coat,  several  years  ago," 
said  Richard,  addressing  them.  "A  coat 
that  we  should  like  to  find — or  one  like 
it." 

"A  mandarin  coat .?"  asked  the  man 
quietly. 

"No-o — I  don't  think  so.  It  was 
longer " 

"Blue,  with  gold  things  on  it —  Drag- 
ons," said  Eleanor  eagerly,  "and  marks 
down  the  front  like  this — "  She  drew  a  few 
lines  on  the  paper  beside  her. 

"Ah — !"  The  man's  breath  gave  a  little 
whistling  sound.  .  .  . 

"That  is  a  very  old  coat,"  he  said 
softly.  "Hundreds  of  years — very,  very 
old." 

His  face  took  on  a  strange,  removed 
look.  "It  will  be  difficult  to  find — I  am 
afraid." 

He  spoke  the  words  with  a  clear,  clip- 

[  144  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ping  sound,  and  looked  out  to  the  west, 
steadying  himself  to  the  motion  of  the 
boat. 

"There  are  not  many  chances  of  find- 
ing it,"  he  said  at  last  with  grave  ac- 
cent. "But  I  will  help  you — if  I  can." 

"We  are  depending  on  you,"  said 
Richard  More. 

The  man  bowed  and  walked  away. 

After  that  Eleanor  saw  him  often, 
mingling  with  the  different  groups  of 
Chinamen  on  the  deck  and  talking  and 
laughing  with  easy  familiarity. 

"He  is  making  inquiries,"  said  Rich- 
ard. "He  tells  me  there  are  people  on 
board  from  nearly  every  province  in 
China.  He  may  find  a  clew  before  we 
leave  the  boat." 

It  might  have  been  only  imagination 
on  Eleanor's  part  that  the  groups  of 
Chinamen  began  to  regard  her  with  in- 
[  I4S  I 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


terest.  As  they  passed  her  chair,  she 
would  fancy  for  a  moment  she  caught  a 
gleam  in  the  opaque  black  eyes.  .  .  . 
Then,  as  she  looked,  it  was  gone.  ...  A 
group  of  them,  by  the  ship's  rail,  talk- 
ing in  clear  staccato  tones,  would  give 
her  a  sudden  sense  that  she  was  closely 
concerned  in  what  they  were  saying. 
But  when  she  looked,  the  stolid  faces  were 
as  impassive  as  the  long  black  queues  de- 
pending from  each  round  hat  almost  to 
the  ship's  deck  and  responding  in  oblique 
black  lines  to  the  attraction  of  gravity — 
as  the  boat  moved  up  and  down.  .  .  . 
After  a  time  she  ceased  to  think  of  them. 
She  sat  in  her  chair,  day  after  day,  with 
half-closed  eyes,  watching  the  faces  drift 
past  and  the  water  beyond  the  ship's 
rail  rise  and  fall. 


[146] 


XXII 

A  HEY  made  no  friends  on  the  boat  as 
they  had  made  none  in  the  train.  It  had 
rested  her  to  leave  all  social  relations 
behind  as  the  train  moved  west,  and  she 
showed  a  strange  reluctance  to  forming 
new  ties.  She  seemed  to  have  swung  free 
from  the  past.  . .  .  Richard,  as  he  watched 
her,  had  a  sense  that  she  gathered  iier- 
self  for  something  she  was  journeying  to 
meet.  .  .  .  Her  face  against  the  steamer- 
chair  seemed  to  absorb  light.  It  held  a 
still  look — as  if  it  waited  some  signal. 

But  if  Eleanor  More,  lying  in  her  chair, 
made  no  acquaintances  on  the  boat,  and 
if  the  groups  of  Chinamen  did  not  seem 
to  observe  her  as  they  passed,  there  were 
others  on  the  boat  who  showed  open  in- 
terest in  the  quiet  figure  that  lay  day 

[1471 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


after  day  looking  under  lowered  lids  to 
the  west. 

More  than  one  woman  slowed  her  pace 
as  she  came  near  the  steamer-chair.  Some- 
times they  lingered  a  moment  ready  to 
enter  into  conversation.  But  it  was  al- 
ways Richard  More  who  spoke  to  them, 
and  after  a  minute's  courteous  talk 
walked  on  with  them,  leaving  the  steamer- 
chair  to  its  unbroken  quiet. 

His  care  for  his  wife,  his  almost  rever- 
ent watchfulness  for  the  figure  in  the 
chair,  gave  it  a  place  apart,  an  aloofness 
that  no  one  broke  in  upon. 

Yet  often  they  .saw  her,  from  a  dis- 
tance, laughing  and  talking  with  her 
husband  like  a  child.  There  was  some- 
thing unwarranted  in  the  sweetness  and 
freshness  of  her  laugh.  ...  It  seemed 
to  have  left  care  behind,  and  yet  to  be 
filled  with  sympathy  that  sprang  from  a 
deep  place. 

1 148  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


A  woman  with  little  fine  lines  in  her 
face  and  a  quick  mobile  mouth  looked 
at  her  companion  and  smiled,  as  the 
laugh  came  to  them. 

They  had  been  standing  by  the  boat- 
rail,  looking  out  to  sea,  silent  for  a  long 
time. 

He  returned  the  smile.  "Well  V 

"I  was  only  thinking — she  knows!" 
She  made  a  little  gesture  toward  the 
steamer-chair. 

"Knows  what  ?"  said  the  man  vaguely. 

"Everything!"  replied  the  woman. 
"Things  I  would  give  my  life  for!"  She 
turned  her  back  on  him.  Her  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  foam  in  the  boat's  wake. 

He  watched  her  a  minute  in  silence. 
Then  he  moved  nearer  to  her  and  laid  his 
hand  on  hers  where  it  lay  on  the  boat's 
rail.  "Why  not .?"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head  and  smiled.  "I  can- 
not be  sure !"  She  faced  him.  "If  I  were 
[  149  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


sure  ...  I  would  marry  you  to-morrow 
— to-day — any  time!'*  She  threw  the 
words  at  him.  "How  can  one  be  sure?** 

He  regarded  her  gravely.  "Isn't  that 
what  it  means .?  .  .  .  Isn't  that  a  part  of 
it — to  take  the  risk?  .  .  .  Suppose  there 
were  no  risk  .  .  .  would  that  be — love?" 

"Oh— I  don't  know!— I  don't  know!" 
She  spoke  as  if  urged  by  something  within. 

Suddenly  she  turned  to  him.  "It  used 
to  be  so  simple — to  be  a  woman.  .  .  . 
One  loved  and  married — and  there  were 
children — and  then  one  died.  That  was 
all !  But  now—  1"  She  broke  off. 

"Yes.  Now,  you  are  free — and  being 
free,  you  must  choose —  And  that  means 
knowledge."  He  looked  at  her  narrowly. 

"Yes!"  She  moved  a  little  from  him. 
"And  I  shall  know — ^when  I  have  made 
the  mistake — perhaps  !" 

"When  you   take  the  risk!"  he  re- 

[  150  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


sponded  cheerfully.  "Shall  we  go  for  our 
walk  ?  That  is  safe — ten  times  round  the 
deck — six  times  a  day!'* 

She  smiled  and  placed  her  hand  in  his 
arm  and  they  swung  into  the  easy  step 
of  the  ship's  constitutional. 

Six  times  they  passed  the  quiet  figure 
in  its  chair.  Then  the  woman  slowed  her 
pace  a  little. 

"I  cannot  bear  It  any  longer — not  to 
know!"  She  lifted  her  hand  to  the  figure 
wrapped  in  its  steamer-rug  and  lying  so 
still.  "When  I  look  at  her — I  cannot  bear 
it !  .  .  .  She  knows.  She  has  foregathered 
with  the  great — !  She  knows  the  secret  I" 

They  had  come  to  a  stop,  and  she 
turned  to  him.  "If  I  marry  you  I  shall 
not  be  happy — "  She  seemed  to  throw 
out  the  words  accusingly. 

"Are  you  happy  now.?"  he  asked 
gently. 

[iSi] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


if 


1  am  free!"  she  flung  back.  .  .  . 
"There  are  things  women  must  do — for 
the  world!"  She  looked  about  her 
vaguely. 

"This  is  one  of  them — perhaps.  But — " 
He  looked  at  her  narrowly.  "Not  unless 
— ^you  love  me." 

She  looked  at  him  and  smiled  subtly. 

"I  want  to  do  brave  things.  I  want  to 
vote  and  reform  cities  and  states.  I  want 
to  found  kingdoms  and  rule  them !  But 
— I  am — agoing  to  marry  you." 

He  moved  a  little  toward  her. 

She  held  up  her  hand.  "I  am  going  to 
marry  you — because  you  hold  the  secret 
' — of  the  Past.  ...  I  cannot  live  with- 
out it."  She  caught  her  breath  and  half 
reached  out  her  hands — as  if  to  a  blind 
god  who  demanded  sacrifice.  There  was  a 
wistful  look  in  her  face. 

He  regarded  it  sharply.   "You  think 

[    152] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


you  will  fathom  the  Past — by  marrying 
me  ?  .  .  .  That  is  why  you  do  it  ?" 

She  nodded  gravely. 

He  turned  his  back  on  her  and  looked 
over  the  rail,  out  to  sea. 

"No  woman  is  going  to  march  through 
my  heart,  slamming  doors  behind  her!'* 
he  said  under  his  breath. 

She  regarded  the  obstinate  back  a 
minute  and  her  face  grew  tender.  .  .  . 
She  had  become  gentle — as  if  she  saw 
something  precious.  She  put  out  her 
hand  and  touched  his  arm. 

"  Don't  be  afraid  of  me,  Gordon !  I 
will  wait — at  the  threshold  ! " 

He  wheeled  suddenly  and  held  out  his 
arms. 

But  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder. 
Only  the  empty  decks — a  Japanese  sailor 
lounging  by  the  rail — and  the  quiet 
figure  of  the  woman  asleep  in  her  chair. 

[  153  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


She  put  up  her  face  with  the  breath  of 
a  kiss  and  drew  near  to  him.  .  .  .  And 
in  her  half-slumber,  beneath  lowered  lids, 
Eleanor  More  dreamed  on.  .  .  .  And 
the  boat  moved  to  the  west  and  to  the 
new  world — the  old  world  of  the  Past — 
new  with  coming  life  in  the  cycles  of  the 
earth  and  the  sun. 

At  Shanghai  there  were  a  few  days  of 
delay  while  Kou  Ying  arranged  for  ac- 
commodations on  the  river-steamer,  and 
telegraphed  ahead  for  runners  and  pro- 
visions and  an  escort  to  be  waiting  at  the 
various  points  where  they  might  wish  to 
stop  off. 

Richard  had  instructed  him  to  make 
arrangements  that  would  leave  them  free 
to  follow  any  clew  that  developed  as  they 
went.  Strings  of  cash  were  provided 
and  paid  out  by  Kou  Ying  with  judicious, 
watchful  hand;  and  banks  in  the  interior 
[IS4] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


received  word  to  hold  sums  subject  to 
call.  The  news  of  the  American  who  was 
to  follow,  penetrated  far  ahead.  ...  If 
any  help  were  to  be  had  from  tradition 
or  rumor  Kou  Ying  had  set  turning  the 
wheels  that  would  bring  it  to  them  as 
they  ascended  the  long  meandering  river 
that  stretches  from  east  to  west  across 
the  country  and  forms  the  waterway  and 
news  route  of  all  upper  China. 

Even  in  Shanghai  the  little  party  be- 
came the  subject  of  almost  official  inter- 
est. Courteous  overtures  were  made  to 
Richard  More  of  information  to  be  had — 
at  a  price. 

The  capacious  suite  of  rooms  Kou 
Ying  engaged  for  them  in  Shanghai's 
leading  hotel  became  an  emporium  of* 
silks  and  stuffs  and  woven  garments  of 
every  shape  and  kind.  .  .  .  Colored 
brocades,  rich  embroideries  stiff  with 
[  IS5] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


gold  and  gorgeous  designs  lay  about  on 
chairs  and  tables;  and  yellow-skinned 
merchants  from  the  native  part  of  the 
city  displayed  their  trays  and  rolls  of 
precious  coats  and  robes  for  the  Ameri- 
can lady's  choice. 

But  she  turned  from  them  all  with  a 
little  smile.  "It  was  much  simpler  than 
any  of  these,  and  more  beautiful — I 
think/*  she  said  quietly. 

And  when  Kou  Ying  interpreted  her 
words,  to  them,  they  repacked  the  gar- 
ments in  their  long  trays,  and  saluted 
her  gravely  and  retired.  .  .  .  Was  it 
only  fancy,  or  did  swift  looks  cross  be- 
tween the  impassive  faces  as  they  moved 
from  her.? 

It  was  as  if  she  were  in  a  veiled  world 
— tissues  of  filmy  thinness.  .  .  .  She  had 
only  to  put  out  her  hand  and  brush  them 
aside — to  find  what  she  sought — some- 

[  156] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


thing  beautiful  and  fine  and  eternal  that 
waited. 

Rumors  from  the  old  city  were  brought 
that  Kou  Ying  sifted  with  cautious  hand. 
Of  some  he  made  notes  on  the  thin,  yel- 
low, rustling  paper  he  always  carried 
with  him;  and  some  he  dismissed  with 
a  curt  wave  that  swept  the  bearers  in 
ignominious  retreat  from  his  presence. 

They  fled  from  the  august  wrath  of  this 
man  who  had  learned  American  ways,  but 
who  had  not  forgotten,  it  would  seem,  the 
duplicity  and  crookedness  of  his  native 
land ! 

Eleanor  More  saw  very  little  of  Kou 
Ying  during  these  days  of  preparation. 
Except  when  he  was  acting  as  interpreter 
for  her,  he  came  and  went  with  even,  in- 
scrutable countenance,  arranging  details, 
directing  movements — preparing  for  the 
long  and  difficult  journey  that  lay  ahead. 
[  IS7] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Never  by  word  or  movement  did  he 
indicate  other  than  the  most  casual  in- 
terest in  the  object  of  their  journey  or  in 
his  employers.  He  gave  the  service  agreed 
upon  and  he  handled  Richard  More's 
money  with  scrupulous  exactness;  but  he 
showed  no  other  sign  of  caring  for  the  ex- 
pedition or  of  interest  in  its  success. 

When  the  preliminary  arrangements 
were  concluded  and  they  sat  on  the  boat's 
deck  looking  out  across  the  Chinese  land- 
scape that  the  season  of  high  water  made 
visible  on  either  bank,  Kou  Ying  showed 
even  less  interest  in  their  movements. 

He  sat,  or  stood,  a  little  distance  from 
them,  his  gaze  resting  stolidly  on  the  level 
fields  and  low-lying  crops,  as  they  moved 
past.  At  a  sign  from  Richard  he  would  ap- 
proach and  explain  some  point  of  interest, 
or  give  information  as  to  the  average  yield 
of  the  fertile  soil  or  the  price  of  crops. 

[  158] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Then,  after  a  courteous  moment  of  silence, 
he  would  return  to  his  solitary  watching, 
and  the  look  of  withdrawal  would  come 
over  his  face. 

Mile  after  mile  they  saw  the  unvarying 
fields  go  by,  and  the  multitudinous  boats 
pass  and  repass  on  the  great  river. 

For  years,  it  seemed  to  them,  they 
had  been  making  their  way  through 
this  fertile  land,  plying  a  steady  course 
up  the  winding  stream  that  led  to  the 
unknown  country  they  sought. 

Then  one  morning  Kou  Ying  came  to 
them. 

"  In  a  few  hours  we  disembark,"  he  said 
courteously.  "There  is  a  shop  in  Ichang 
you  may  wish  to  visit." 

But  the  shop  in  Ichang  proved  only  a 
duplicate  of  the  shops  of  old  Shanghai, 
and  they  returned  to  the  river  and  moved 
on — this  time  in  their  own  boat,  a  clumsy, 

[  159 1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


roomy  junk  that  went  more  slowly  and 
was  propelled  by  the  wind  or  by  stalwart 
rowers — up  through  great  gorges,  where 
the  river  made  its  tortuous  way — up, 
steadily  up,  over  rapids  or  along  the 
smooth-flowing  water  between  gigantic 
walls. 

And  as  Eleanor  More  watched  the 
muscles  in  the  half-naked  backs,  bending 
to  the  oars  or  tugging  and  straining  at  the 
rope  that  hauled  the  boat  through  swift 
foaming  rapids,  she  felt  as  if  she  ascended 
some  great  river  of  a  dream  world.  .  .  . 
So  Dante  may  have  watched  the  shades 
appear  and  vanish,  or  a  turn  of  the  jour- 
ney reveal  new  and  mysterious  regions 
of  the  unknown  world. 

Already  they  had  fallen  into  the  habit 

of  saying  little.  They  sat  in  the  sedan 

chairs  that  had  been  provided  for  the 

upper    reaches,    motionless    and    silent. 

[  i6o] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Above  them  the  great  walls  stretched 
dizzily  or  opened  out  around  quiet  waters 
where  the  light  lay  dazzling  on  distant 
peaks;  or  they  watched  the  water  as  it 
broke  and  swirled  about  the  bow  and 
the  boat  groaned  and  bumped  under  the 
tugging  strain  that  brought  it  at  last 
one  reach  higher  up. 

Often  the  journey  was  halted  for  ex- 
peditions into  the  country  on  one  side 
or  the  other  as  they  made  their  way 
steadily  toward  the  Thibetan  ranges  that 
stretched  to  the  west.  But  no  clew  had 
been  reached.  .  .  .  Always  the  courteous 
reception  of  Kou  Ying's  inquiries — always 
the  spreading  before  them  of  gorgeous 
robes  and  flower-embroidered  garments 
— but  no  glimpse  or  hint  of  a  blue  coat 
and  shining  dragons. 

"  I  begin  to  feel  as  if  It  were  a  dream," 
said  Eleanor,  "we  have  been  remember- 
[  i6i  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ing  all  these  years — only  a  dream-coat. 
It  was  so  long  ago!"  she  mused.  "And 
this  is  another  life."  She  motioned  to  the 
strange  fields  about  them — the  low  houses 
among  the  trees  and  the  carved,  fantas- 
tic temple  rising  from  the  grove  near 
by.  "Almost  another  world!"  she  mur- 
mured. 

The  sedan  chairs  halted  for  luncheon. 
A  little  distance  away,  the  bearers  sat 
or  lolled  at  rest.  In  the  distance  Kou  Ying 
consulted  with  a  Taoist  priest,  who  shook 
his  head  and  turned  away. 

They  saw  Kou  Ying  move  swiftly  after 
him  and  press  a  coin  in  his  hand.  The 
priest  stopped  and  regarded  it  with  pass- 
ing motion,  and  spoke  a  few  words  again, 
and  shook  his  head  and  went  on  to  his 
temple. 

Kou  Ying  returned  to  them  with  the 
usual  formula  of  failure.  He  motioned  to 

[162] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


the  bearers  to  take  up  the  chairs  and  con- 
tinue the  journey. 

But  Richard  More  stayed  him.  "Wait," 
he  said.  He  was  searching  in  his  pocket  for 
something. 

Kou  Ying  paused  without  interest. 

And  Richard  More  took  from  his  pocket 
a  yellow  paper,  and  began  to  unfold  it 
with  slow,  rustling  fingers. 

The  Orientars  face  changed  subtly. 
He  moved  toward  it  and  reached  out  his 
hand. 

"What  is  that.?"  he  demanded. 

Richard  More  looked  up.  "I  had  for- 
gotten— that  I  had  it,"  he  said  absently. 

Kou  Ying  reached  to  it.  But  Richard 
held  it  away.  His  finger  traced  a  line  along 
the  paper  and  paused.  .  .  . 

"This  must  be  the  place — here .?"  He 
looked  about  him,  at  the  clustering  houses 
and  the  Taoist  temple  on  the  right. 

[  163  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Kou  Ying's  face  bent  eagerly  above  the 
paper. 

"Where  did  you  get  this  ?"  he  asked 
huskily.  There  was  a  strange,  quiet  gleam 
in  the  yellow  face. 

"The  man  I  told  you  of — Stewart — 
gave  it  to  me.  ...  I  had  forgotten — till 
now.  Will  it  help,  do  you  think  .?" 

Kou  Ying  looked  at  him,  almost  with 
compassion,  it  seemed. 

His  finger  touched  the  paper.  But  he 
made  no  further  move  to  take  it. 

"Hold  it  to  the  light !"  he  said. 

And  when  Richard  More  held  it  against 
the  light  they  saw,  gleaming  high,  an 
imperial  dragon  and  beside  it  the  four 
strange  cabalistic  marks. 

"It  is  the  royal  seal,"  said  Kou  Ying 
quietly — "the  seal  of  a  dynasty  long 
since  deposed.  Only  documents  of  rare 
value  are  inscribed  on  this  paper." 

[  164] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  waited  a  moment  in  silence.  "It 
will  tell  us  the  way/*  he  said  slowly- 
"Whoever  sees  that  paper  must  speak 
true  words — on  penalty  of  death." 

He  held  out  his  hand.  "Give  it  to  me," 
he  said  quietly.  ' 

And  Richard  More  yielded  it  without 
demur. 

The  man's  whole  bearing  had  changed. 
His  face  had  lost  its  sullen  look.  He  gazed 
down  at  the  yellowed  paper  with  quiet 
intentness. 

Presently  he  looked  up.  The  smile  on 
his  face  was  youthful  and  full  of  light. 
The  antagonism  was  gone,  and  the  repres- 
sion and  difference  of  race. 

"  I  wish  I  had  known  before — that  you 
carried  this,"  he  said  gently.  He  smoothed 
it  in  his  yellow  fingers. 

"What  would  you  have  done — differ- 
ent .?"  asked  Richard,  a  little  curious. 
[  i6s] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"I  should  have  served  you  in  spirit," 
said  Kou  Ying.  "This  is  the  map  of  the 
spirit  country."  He  touched  it  reverently 
and  waited  a  moment. 

"I  cannot  tell  you  more.  My  words 
would  not-have  meaning — for  you " 

But  Eleanor  More  leaned  forward  a 
little,  with  parted  lips. 

"Tell  us,"  she  said  swiftly. 

And  Kou  Ying  looked  at  her  a  moment 
in  grave  silence.  The  paper  in  his  hand 
seemed  to  radiate  a  kind  of  light  and  re- 
move him  mistily. 

"You  will  know,"  he  said,  " — all  that 
the  paper  can  tell.  You  will  know — soon. 
.  .  .  But  I  cannot  tell  you." 

He  motioned  to  the  bearers  and  they 
took  up  the  chairs  and  moved  forward. 

And  wherever  the  chairs  halted  and  the 
paper  was  presented,  there  was  swift 
hurrying  and  obedient  response  to  Kou 
[  i66] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Ying*s  questions  and  demands.  The  little 
procession  became  a  kind  of  royal  con- 
voy. Each  village  that  was  entered  re- 
ceived it  with  honor  and  hastened  to 
serve  it  and  to  speed  it  on  its  way — al- 
most as  if  eager  to  be  rid  of  so  fateful  a 
mission. 

There  was  no  dallying  in  progress  now, 
and  no  detours  leading  to  fruitless  re- 
sults. Each  halt  found  the  route  ahead 
prepared  and  directions  ready  for  Kou 
Ying's  hand.  .  .  .  But  the  end  that  they 
sought  was  always  a  little  farther  on — a 
day's  journey  on. 

They  left  the  travelled  region  and  as- 
cended into  a  hilly  country  where  the 
road  wound  constantly  up  and  the  bear- 
ers were  obliged  to  force  their  way 
through  paths  that  were  no  longer  wide 
enough  for  two  abreast.  At  last  only 
the  empty  chairs  could  be  carried  and 

[  167  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


they  ascended  by  slow  stages,  halting 
often  to  rest. 

"We  are  near  the  end  now  V  Kou  Ying 
looked  gravely  at  Eleanor  More. 

Her  face  had  grown  a  little  tired,  but 
it  held  a  light  that  scanned  each  break 
in  the  road  with  quiet  happiness. 

Richard  More  watched  her  uneasily. 
"You  are  not  tired  ?*'  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head.  "I  am  strangely 
rested.  ...  I  am  getting  acclimated, 
perhaps." 

He  looked  again  at  the  quiet  face.  It 
was  true  that  it  seemed  rested — more 
rested  than  he  had  ever  seen  it.  But  there 
was  a  pallor  about  it  that  touched  him 
strangely. 

He  took  her  hand  and  held  it  in  his  as 
they  ascended  the  hill,  guiding  her,  al- 
most carrying  her  over  the  rough  places, 
till  the  path  before  them  opened  out  into 
[  i68  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


a  little  clearing  and  they  stood  on  the 
summit  of  the  mountain. 

Below  them  the  path  wound  down- 
ward to  a  valley  of  trees  and  little  farms 
that  stretched  away  to  the  plain;  and 
in  the  centre  of  the  valley  stood  a  walled 
city.  .  .  .  They  noted  the  circling  walls 
and  the  gates  and  towers  that  thrust  up- 
ward. In  the  midst  of  the  city  was  a  curi- 
ous and  rounded  mountain,  and  on  the 
summit  of  the  mountain  two  thin,  shin- 
ing trees  and  a  temple  with  little  points 
and  peaks  glinted  in  the  light.  .  .  .  Below 
the  temple,  shrined  in  the  face  of  the 
mountain,  something  glowed.  The  light 
fell  on  it  and  shifted  a  little  and  the  sun 
that  had  beeh  struggling  through  gray 
clouds  shone  full  on  the  face  of  the  god — 
hewn  from  the  ribs  of  the  mountain  and 
gilded  till  it  shone  like  brass.  .  .  .  Colos- 
sal in  dignity  and  repose,  the  great  face 

[  169] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


gazed  out  over  the  roofs  and  towers  of 
the  walled  city,  to  the  plain  beyond. 

Eleanor  More  caught  her  breath 
and  leaned  forward,  gazing  with  quiet 
eyes. 

Kou  Ying  beside  her  gave  a  quick  cry 
and  flung  himself  prostrate  on  his  face. 
.  .  .  And  all  the  bearers  of  the  little 
retinue  as  they  came  straggling  into  the 
opening  prostrated  themselves,  with  half- 
uttered  sounds  of  awe. 

Richard  More,  standing  among  the 
kneeling  figures,  noted  quietly  the  dis- 
tance of  the  descending  path  that  led  to 
the  city.  And  when  Kou  Ying  rose  and 
stood  beside  him,  the  American  motioned 
with  his  hand  to  the  mountain  and  the 
god  that  faced  them,  rising  above  the 
city  walls. 

"From  here  we  go  on  alone,"  he  said. 

Kou  Ying  gazed  at  him  a  moment  in 
[  170  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


silence.  He  seemed  weighing  something 
in  his  mind. 

"You  will  need  an  interpreter,"  he 
said  gravely. 

Richard  More  laughed  out.  He  touched 
the  string  of  cash  that  hung  beneath  his 
coat. 

"This  will  talk!" 

But  Kou  Ying  shook  his  head  with  a 
smile. 

"You  must  go  to  the  temple — not  the 
one  above,  but  below.  Beside  the  Buddha 
— can  you  see  it .?" 

Richard  More  shaded  his  eyes,  and 
nodded  assent.  At  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain, rising  barely  to  the  knees  of  the  great 
seated  figure,  he  could  see  the  other  tem- 
ple huddled  among  the  trees. 

"I  can  see  it,"  he  said. 

"Go  there — and  inquire.  Here — take 
the  map.  I  think  we  are  very  near  now. 

[  171  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


But — "  Kou  Ying  hesitated.  "I  should 
feel  safer — "  he  murmured.  Then  his 
eyes  fell  on  Eleanor  More  standing  with 
relaxed  hands,  waiting,  and  his  face 
lighted  and  glowed  curiously.  He  drew 
aside  with  a  gesture  of  abnegation. 

"  If  you  need  me,  signal  from  the  gate 
— or  from  the  wall.  I  shall  wait  here  with 
the  men — and  come  if  you  need  me." 
He  bowed  gravely  and  motioned  to  the 
men.  They  drew  back  and  watched  the 
two  figures  descend  the  winding  path 
that  led  to  the  valley. 

Sometimes  a  rock  obscured  them,  and 
sometimes  they  passed  under  overhang- 
ing trees  or  disappeared  beneath  the  arch 
of  a  bridge  or  fantastic  tower  that 
spanned  the  way.  .  .  .  Each  time  a  little 
nearer  to  the  city  and  to  the  great  seated 
figure  of  the  Buddha  of  the  mountain. 

And  when  the  two  figures  halted  a 
[  172  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


minute  at  the  gate  and  disappeared  within 
the  wall  Kou  Ying  made  a  significant 
gesture  to  the  men;  and  the  Httle  retinue 
in  the  clearing  on  the  mountain  above  the 
valley  fell  on  their  faces  in  silence.  .  .  . 

Across  the  valley,  the  great  Buddha 
brooded,  and  above  it  rose  the  temple 
and  two  thin  trees,  transparent  in  the 
gray  morning  light. 

And  on  the  high  plateau  that  faced  the 
god,  the  single  figure  of  Kou  Ying  stood 
erect  among  the  kneeling  men  and  kept 
watch  for  a  signal  from  the  gate  or  the 
city  wall. 


[  173  1 


Ti 


XXIII 


HROUGH  his  barred  window,  the 
old  priest  looked  out  at  them  with  un- 
seeing eyes. 

There  was  an  interval  and  he  stood 
beside  them,  looking  down  at  their  dusty 
clothes  and  travel-stained  faces  with 
quiet,  understanding  gaze. 

Even  before  the  interpreter  came,  with 
his  high,  sing-song  words  that  translated 
their  wishes,  even  before  Richard  More 
took  from  his  pocket  the  yellow  map  and 
laid  it  in  the  old  priest's  hand,  they  knew 
that  they  were  come  to  the  end  of  their 
search. 

The  priest  listened  with  bowed  head. 
Once  or  twice  he  nodded  assent,  and  when 
the  interpreter  finished,  he  looked  at 
Eleanor  More  with  slow,  kind  eyes. 

He  folded  the  map  and  handed  it  back 
[  "74  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


and  pointed  to  a  little  house  among  the 
trees.  Then  he  spoke  to  the  interpreter 
in  a  low  tone  and  motioned  to  the  figure 
of  the  god  cut  in  the  rock  above,  and 
entered  the  temple. 

An  old  man,  half-asleep  before  his 
door,  roused  himself.  He  listened  to  the 
interpreter  and  shook  his  head.  His  face 
was  as  motionless  as  the  plank  it  leaned 
against. 

The  interpreter  spoke  again,  sharply, 
and  the  old  eyes  turned  to  him  with 
slow,  incurious  look. 

The  interpreter  flung  one  hand  up- 
ward, toward  the  seated  Buddha  tower- 
ing above;  and  the  old  gaze  followed  it 
unsteadily — up — up  to  the  great  gilded 
face. 

For  a  long  minute  he  gazed  at  the 
god  in  the  face  of  the  mountain.  Then 
[  I7S  1 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


he  rose  slowly  and  entered  the  darkened 
house. 

They  heard  a  sound  of  scraping  within 
and  a  creaking,  as  if  a  door  opened,  then 
silence.  .  .  .  The  city  was  very  quiet 
about  them — a  gentle  intoning  from  the 
temple  and  a  rustling  of  leaves  on  the 
mountainside. 

For  a  long  time  they  waited  in  the 
silence  before  the  half-swung  door.  The 
old  man  appeared  and  beckoned  to  them 
and  they  passed  into  the  cool  quiet. 

They  traversed  a  passage  and  crossed 
a  court  and  entered  a  low  room. 

The  room  was  empty  except  for  two 
objects  on  the  right  as  they  entered — a 
shrine  to  Buddha  revealed  through  the 
half-open  doors  the  god  within;  and 
across  the  room  on  a  raised  platform  fac- 
ing the  shrine  stood  a  red-and-black  lac- 
quered coffin. 

[176] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


At  the  sight  of  the  coffin  Eleanor 
More's  face  changed  subtly.  She  turned 
to  the  interpreter. 

"Why  have  you  brought  us  to  a  house 
of  mourning .?"  Her  hand  moved  toward 
the  raised  platform. 

The  old  man  at  the  interpreter's  side 
spoke  a  few  words.  .  .  .  And  the  inter- 
preter translated  in  his  sing-song  voice. 

"It  is  his  son — ^who  is  dead.  He  has  no 
other  to  do  him  honor,"  he  chanted 
slowly,  as  if  the  words  were  full  of  presage. 

And  Eleanor  More*s  eyes  turned  to 
the  old  man  with  a  quiet  look.  But  the 
stolid  face  gave  no  response. 

With  a  courteous  gesture  and  a  low 
word  to  the  interpreter,  the  old  man 
moved  toward  the  shrine  across  the  room 
and,  squatting  before  it,  opened  a  drawer 
beneath  the  half-open  doors  and  drew  out 
an  oblong  box. 

[  177  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


The  three  people  standing  by  the  red- 
and-black  coffin  waited  quietly  as  he 
lifted  it  and  turned  to  them. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Richard  More. 

He  had  a  curious  thrill — as  if  at  the 
end  of  a  long  quest  he  put  out  his  hand  in 
the  dark  and  touched  a  human  hand  like 
his  own. 

The  old  man  crossed  to  them  in  silence, 
and  laying  the  box  on  the  platform  by  the 
coffin  lifted  the  lid.  .  .  .A  faint  scent  of 
spices  drifted  out;  it  floated  about  them 
and  enveloped  them  as  he  took  out,  one 
by  one,  the  soft  thin  papers  that  filled 
the  box,  and  revealed  lying  at  the  bottom 
something  that  glowed  and  shimmered  a 
little. 

Eleanor  More  leaned  forward  breath- 
less. Her  hands  half-reached  to  the  shim- 
mer of  blue  and  gold  as  the  old  man  lifted 
it  from  the  box  and  opened  it  with  slow, 

1 178] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


reverent  fingers.  .  .  .  The  dragons  played 
across  the  surface,  and  on  the  breast  as 
he  held  it  up  were  four  cabalistic  marks — 
the  signs  in  the  transparent  map  that 
guided  them  on  their  journey. 

They  stood  a  moment  in  silence.  All 
the  color  of  the  coat  seemed  to  gather  to 
a  soft  intensity,  and  glow. 

Eleanor  More  caught  her  breath  with 
a  little  sound.  "  I  had  forgotten !  '*  she 
said.  "I  had  forgotten.  .  .  . !"  Her  face 
was  filled  with  light — a  look  of  happiness 
pervaded  it. 

Richard  More  glanced  at  her.  "Ask  him 
how  much  it  is,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice 
to  the  interpreter. 

The  interpreter  spoke  the  words  arid 
listened  a  moment  and  translated  the 
answer  swiftly:  "Money  will  not  buy 
the  coat — not  all  the  gold  in  all  the 
world,"  he  chanted  back. 
[  179  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Again  and  again  Richard  More  made 
his  demand.  .  .  .  And  again  he  offered 
larger  sums.  But  the  old  face  opposite 
remained  untouched. 

"Money  cannot  buy  it,"  replied  the 
interpreter. 

It  was  like  a  refrain  that  came  and  went 
between  the  two  men,  as  they  faced  each 
other — Richard  More  urgent,  imperious, 
and  strong;  the  old  Chinaman  impassive 
and  quiet.  His  face  had  not  changed  from 
its  look  of  calm  endurance. 

"He  will  not  sell  it,"  repeated  the  in- 
terpreter. "He  only  shows  it  to  you  at 
the  priest's  command.  It  is  a  legacy — 
from  mother  to  son." 

"His  son  is  dead,"  said  Richard  almost 
harshly.  His  hand  moved  to  the  coffin 
with  an  abrupt  gesture.  .  .  .  "His  son  is 
dead " 

The  words  held  themselves  on  his  lips, 
[  i8o] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  was  facing  a  small  door  across  the 
room.  His  hand  fell  to  his  side  in  a  ges- 
ture of  silence. 

The  woman  in  the  doorway  stood  look- 
ing at  them  with  deep,  intent  gaze.  Then 
she  moved  toward  them — as  one  who 
comes  in  her  own  right. 

She  spoke  a  word  to  the  interpreter. 
He  gave  quiet  assent  and  waited  while 
she  spoke. 

"  She  says  the  coat  is  of  royal  lineage," 
he  translated  slowly — "a  heritage  in  her 
family — since  Time.  .  .  .  She  is  of  a 
dynasty  long  since  deposed.  Only  the 
coat  remains.  No  one  remembers  whence 
it  came — no  one  reads  the  dragon  marks. 
.  .  ."  He  translated  the  words  as  they 
came  from  her  lips  in  quaint  exact 
phrasing.  "But  there  is  a  tradition — " 
his  voice  went  on 

He  listened  again — a  half-curious  flut- 
[  i8i  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ter  of  his  lids  rested  on  Eleanor  More's 
face. 

She  had  withdrawn  to  one  side  and 
stood  looking  down  at  the  red-and-black 
lacquered  surface  of  the  coffin.  .  .  .  Her 
hands  were  folded  quietly.  Something 
within  her  seemed  to  hold  itself  remote. 

His  gaze  ran  from  her  to  the  woman 
who  stood  speaking  the  words  that  he 
translated,  half  under  his  breath 

"There  is  a  tradition — "  he  repeated 
softly,  "that  the  coat  is  immortal " 

They  turned  to  it  where  it  lay  beside 
the  coffin.  It  seemed  to  shimmer  and 
gather  light. 

" — a  tradition  that  the  coat  is  im- 
mortal," went  on  the  singing  voice  of  the 
interpreter.  .  .  .  "And  one  day  there 
shall  come  from  the  East — a  woman — a 
woman  out  of  the  East.  .  .  .  And  her 
sons  shall  cherish  the  coat !" 
[  182  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Eleanor  More  stirred  a  little. 

The  voice  of  the  interpreter  took  on  a 
high  sing-song  note,  alternating  with  the 
low,  gentle  phrasing  of  the  Chinese 
woman's  words.  .  .  .  "Her  sons  and  her 
sons'  sons — forever." 

The  voice  ceased  and  the  room  was 
very  still.  From  somewhere  in  the  house 
came  a  rustling  sound  that  rose  and  died 
away. 

Eleanor  More  raised  her  eyes  and 
looked  steadfastly  at  the  other  woman. 
She  moved  a  step — and  half  held  out 
her  hands.  But  the  other  did  not  stir 
and  she  crossed  the  space  between  them. 
.  .  .  They  were  of  equal  height.  As 
Richard  More  turned  a  startled  glance,  he 
was  aware  of  something  curiously  alike 
in  the  two  figures — a  lift  of  the  head,  an 
air  of  quiet  endurance — but  more  than 
all,  a  kind  of  dignity — something  regal — 

[  183  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


that  stirred  vague  memories.  .  .  .  When 
had  he  stood  before  and  seen  two  women 
thus?  .  .  .  Surely  in  some  other  Hfe — in 
some  other  age  and  time,  he  had  looked 
on  at  a  supreme  moment  of  joy  and  ab- 
negation. 

For  a  long  moment,  the  two  women 
confronted  each  other,  gazing  deep  into 
the  other's  eyes.  Then  with  a  little  ges- 
ture, the  Oriental,  in  her  softly  rustling 
garments,  moved  to  the  platform  and 
lifted  the  Chinese  coat  in  her  hands  and 
placed  it  in  Eleanor  More's. 

Were  there  tears  in  the  eyes  that  gazed 
...  or  only  a  deep,  still  joy .? 

Before  Richard  More  could  question — 
the  look  was  gone.  The  Oriental  woman 
was  moving  from  them  and  the  door 
closed  softly  behind  her. 

He  watched  it  swing  together,  with  a 
sense  that  something  irretrievable  had 
[  184] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


passed — a  mystery  and  wonder — out  of 
life.  .  .  .  Then  he  turned  and  saw  his 
wife's  face. 

She  was  gazing  down  at  the  coat  with 
a  look  almost  of  fear.  "Her  sons  and  her 
sons'  sons — forever,"  flashed  through  his 
mind.  .  .  .  She  Hfted  her  eyes  and  smiled 
at  him,  holding  out  the  coat. 

"Carry  it  for  me,  Dick!" 

He  moved  quickly  toward  her.  "You 
are  tired  .?"  he  said  tenderly. 

"No — I  am  not  tired!"  She  looked 
about  her.  "I  am  only  glad.  ...  It  was  a 
long  journey,  wasn't  it  ? "  She  spoke  with 
quiet  conviction.  "But  now  it  seems 
short — and  easy  to  find.  .  .  ." 

She  looked  about  her  again.  Her  eyes 
rested  wonderingly  on  the  shrine  of  the 
Buddha  and  on  the  shallow  platform 
with  its  coflin  and  the  three  men  standing 
by  it.  .  .  . 

[i8sl 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"  I  have  been  here  before,  I  think — and 
yet.  .  .  ."  She  passed  her  hand  across 
her  eyes.  "  I  cannot " 

"Never  mind !"  He  had  taken  the 
coat  from  her  and  handed  it  to  the  in- 
terpreter, who  was  folding  it  in  slow,  skil- 
ful hands. 

The  old  Chinaman  had  not  stirred  from 
his  place,  a  little  to  one  side.  He  looked 
on  with  impassive  gaze. 

Richard  More  glanced  at  him  and  a 
sense  of  something  wonted  came  to  him 
...  a  sudden  vision  of  the  oak-tree  with 
its  great  roots  protruding  from  the 
ground,  and  the  low-swung  branches. 
He  moved  quickly  to  the  platform. 
From  about  his  neck  he  removed  the 
long  strings  of  cash  and  placed  them 
beside  the  coffin  and  from  his  pocket  he 
took  handfuls  of  the  Chinese  silver 
"shoes"  that  had  served  them  on  their 
[i86] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


journey.  .  .  .  They  would  not  need  them 
now.  .  .  .  He  piled  them  about  the 
coffin. 

The  old  eyes  of  the  Chinaman  gazed 
straight  before  him.  His  lips  parted  in 
half-spoken  words  that  the  interpreter 
took  up,  translating  softly. 

"He  will  go  to  the  grave  of  his  an- 
cestors. ...  He  is  old  and  his  sons  are 
dead.  .  .  .  He  will  bury  this  son,  the 
last  of  his  race — "  His  hand  touched  the 
lacquered  surface  gently.  "He  will  offer 
worship  at  the  sacred  mountain  and  pay 
vows  before  the  tomb  of  his  ancestors. 
The  money  you  have  given  shall  make 
glad  the  hearts  of  his  ancestors." 

He  ceased.  The  old  man  approached 
the  coffin.  For  a  long  moment  he  stood 
with  hands  resting  on  it — as  if  he  would 
gather  from  it  something  of  the  strength 
of  the  race  that  was  passing.  Then  with 

1 187] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


grave  face  he  lifted  the  strings  of  cash  and 
placed  them  about  his  neck  and  gathered 
up  the  silver  shoes  from  beside  the  coffin 
and  took  from  a  little  shelf  by  the  plat- 
form a  red  umbrella  and  a  pair  of  half- 
worn  sandals.  With  courteous  gesture  he 
passed  from  the  room. 


[  i88] 


XXIV 

In  the  grove  outside  the  city  wall  they 
paused  to  rest. 

The  interpreter,  who  had  come  with 
them  from  the  house  and  refused  to  leave 
them  till  the  city  gate  was  reached,  had 
been  paid  and  was  returning  to  the  temple. 

As  they  passed  through  the  streets, 
they  had  been  conscious  of  curious  whis- 
pers, glances  from  behind  opaque  win- 
dows and  rustling  from  concealed  door- 
ways and  passages  beyond — so  a  hive 
of  bees  despoiled  of  its  comb  stirs  with 
low-murmured  sound  and  the  restless 
whir  of  wings.  .  .  .  But  no  one  had  ap- 
proached them,  no  one  barred  passage 
to  the  light  oblong  box  that  Richard 
More  carried  so  carefully  in  his  hand. 

At  the  entrance  to  the  grove  he  glanced 
at  his  wife. 

[  189] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"We  shall  rest  here,"  he  said  with  quiet 
decision. 

And  she  acquiesced — a  little  smile  com- 
ing to  her  lips  as  they  entered  the  grove. 

The  green  light  filtered  through  the 
boughs.  It  touched  the  twisted  trunks 
with  a  still  look  of  mystery  and  strange- 
ness. 

"How  beautiful!"  she  said  under  her 
breath. 

He  made  a  place  for  her  to  sit  down, 
and  as  she  leaned  against  the  gnarled 
trunk,  looking  up  to  the  boughs  where 
the  filtering  light  came  through,  he  was 
struck  again  by  the  pallor  of  her  face. 

"You  are  tired!"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
shall  signal  Kou  Ying  to  bring  the 
chairs!"  He  moved  to  the  entrance  of 
the  grove — but  she  stayed  him. 

"No — wait !  I  like  it — to  be  alone  with 
you.  .  .  .  Don't  call  Kou  Ying — yet !" 
[  190  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


ft 


She  looked  about  with  dreamy  eyes. 

It  is  so  beautiful  here — and  quiet — I 
shall  rest,"  she  said  slowly. 

Then  her  eyes  fell  on  the  box  and  she 
smiled. 

"Open  it  I"  she  commanded. 

And  as  his  fingers  undid  the  cord  and 
lifted  the  thin  rustling  papers  and  drew 
the  coat  from  its  place,  she  laughed  and 
chatted  like  a  child.  And  her  laughter, 
sounding  through  the  grove,  had  some- 
thing sweet  and  strange  in  it. 

He  lifted  the  coat  and  laid  it  before 
her.  She  looked  down  at  it.  She  put  out 
her  hand  and  stroked  the  dragons,  the 
laughter  still  in  her  eyes. 

"For  William  Archer,"  she  said. 

"And  his  sons,"  responded  Richard. 

"And  his  sons'  sons  forever,"  she 
finished  dreamily. 

Her  hand  still  stroked  the  dragons. 
[191  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


"  I  did  not  think  you — would  get  it — 
for  me  !'*  she  said. 

"Of  course  I  should  get  it — if  you 
wanted  it.  .  .  .  You  had  only  to  say  you 
wanted  it !" 

"You  knew  that!"  he  added  after  a 
minute. 

"Yes,  I  knew."  A  little  sigh  touched 
her  lips. 

They  sat  a  moment  in  silence.  Then  he 
lifted  the  coat. 

"  Put  it  on,"  he  insisted  gently. 

She  lifted  her  arms  to  the  sleeves  and 
smiled  at  him  as  he  wrapped  it  about  her. 
.  .  .  Suddenly  the  look  of  pallor  was  in 
her  face.  It  grew  strangely  quiet,  and  a 
touch  of  wistfulness  curved  the  smile  of 
the  lips. 

He  looked  down  at  her,  startled  .  .  . 
the  pallor  in  the  quiet  face  seemed  passed 
to  his  own. 

[  192  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


Hastily  he  laid  down  the  still  figure 
and  ran  to  the  entrance  of  the  grove.  .  .  . 
At  the  edge  of  the  path  he  paused  and 
looked  up  and  motioned — gesticulating 
swiftly  to  a  single  figure  on  the  plateau 
above. 

From  his  post  above  Kou  Ying  started. 
He  leaned  forward  and  lifted  his  hand  in 
a  swift  gesture. 

He  gave  a  harsh  call. 

The  men  behind  him  leaped  to  their 
feet  and  ran  from  the  trees.  There  was 
confusion  and  hurry  and  a  swift  chatter 
of  voices,  as  they  seized  the  empty  sedan 
chairs  and  slung  them  to  their  shoulders, 
and  moved  forward  toward  the  winding 
path  that  led  from  the  hill. 

From  the  edge  of  the  hill  before 
he  descended  Kou  Ying  looked  down 
again. 

[  193  ] 


THE   CHINESE  COAT 


The  valley  below  was  still.  No  one 
moved  among  the  trees. 

From  the  mountain  opposite,  the  quiet 
face  of  the  Buddha  looked  across  to  the 
plain. 


[  194  ] 


I 


XXV 


N  the  grove  he  bent  above  the  death- 
Hke  face. 

A  tremor  crossed  it. 

She  brushed  a  hand  lightly  across  her 
eyes,  as  if  visions  fled,  and  sat  up.  The 
color  came  slowly  back  to  her  face. 

"I  had  a  dream!"  she  breathed. 

The  green  light  of  the  grove  shim- 
mered about  her  softly  and  touched  her 
face. 

"It  was  William  Archer  an^  the  coat. 
But  I  cannot  remember — "  She  passed 
a  hand  across  her  forehead. 

"Never  mind,''  said  Richard.  "We  are 
going  to  take  it  home  to  him." 

Her  hand  dropped  to  the  dragons  and 
smoothed  them  absently. 

"And  to  his  sons'  sons  forever!"  she 
murmured  happily. 

[  195  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


At  the  entrance  to  the  grove,  dark  in- 
curious faces  peered  in  at  the  blue-robed 
figure  that  rested  against  the  gnarled 
trunk.  .  .  .  The  sound  of  quick,  indrawn 
breath  passed  among  the  leaves. 

Richard  More  lifted  her  to  her  feet. 

"Come!"  he  said. 

They  passed  out  of  the  grove  where 
the  sedan  chairs  waited  them.  The  bear- 
ers prone  on  their  faces  on  the  ground 
uttered  low  words  that  rose  in  a  kind 
of  chant  and  ended  in  the  long  indrawn 
note  of  awe. 

Kou  Ying  alone  stood  erect. 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  the  blue-robed 
figure  and  escorted  it  to  the  sedan  chair 
and  seated  it  with  grave  care. 

Richard  More  took  his  place  in  the 
chair  beside  her. 

"We  return  by  the  lower  route,"  said 
Kou  Ying. 

[  196] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


He  spoke  a  sharp  word  to  the  bearers. 
They  sprang  to  their  feet  and  touched 
the  handles  of  the  chairs. 

"Keep  to  the  lower  hill  by  the  spur," 
he  commanded. 

The  procession  moved  toward  the  low 
hill  that  edged  the  plain.  And  as  they 
made  their  way  up  the  long  slope  at  an 
easy  trot  Richard  More's  eyes  rested 
on  his  wife. 

She  sat  erect  beneath  the  canopy  of 
the  chair,  the  blue  robe  with  its  gold 
dragons  wrapped  about  her.  Her  tran- 
quil face  in  its  white  hair  looked  across 
the  plain.  .  .  .  She  was  more  beautiful 
than  he  had  ever  known  her!  A  queen 
in  this  robe  of  the  Past ! 

He  reached  his  hand  till  it  touched 
the  one  that  lay  on  the  arm  of  the  chair. 
The  face  with  its  tranquil  smile  turned 
to  him. 

[  197  ] 


THE  CHINESE  COAT 


And  he  saw  with  a  start  that  the  blue 
of  the  eyes  and  the  blue  of  the  coat 
were  one.  .  .  . 

They  reached  the  spur  of  the  hill  and 
Kou  Ying  gave  the  signal  to  halt. 

Behind  them  in  the  face  of  the  cliff  the 
seated  Buddha  looked  across  the  plain. 

And  ahead,  far  beyond  them  on  the 
plain,  a  single  figure  beneath  a  red  um- 
brella plodded  stolidly  on,  moving  toward 
the  tomb  of  its  ancestors. 

And  as  it  went  the  red  umbrella 
bobbed  slowly,  a  spot  of  color  in  the 
distant    far-reaching    grayness    of    the 


plain. 


f 


[  198] 


fur 


/ 


^  - 


A    000  676  141     5 


